Conversations With The Wall

Have you tried talking to a wall? I do... everyday.

I tell the wall everything I have in my mind and in my heart. Pouring everything that is inside me to prevent myself from exploding. I read cases to the wall and give out my unsolicited thoughts to my heart's satisfaction.

Despite my nonsensical mumblings, the wall doesn't complain though I wish it does.

The wall is rather very cold and very unresponsive. But what am I saying? For God's sake, it's a wall!

Sometimes, I'm happy that it's a wall -- a mute witness to every heartache, frustrations and tears I hide. It doesn't blame me for every wrong turn I make. It doesn't dispute me. It doesn't care but it's there... at least it's there. Such presence counts. It does. Significantly.

Just like with loneliness, I dine and sleep with the wall.

The wall and loneliness as friends -- that's how I live my life. Not an ideal one I guess but it's a life... or at least that's what I treat of it.

After endless conversations with the wall, I realized something...





There's no wall... Only a fortress made out of melancholy.