falling walls and pieces
when a wall crashses, there is much commotion- much noise, dirt. the larger and older the wall is, the larger the echo of its fall. when it's freshly fallen, it's very funny to see that untouched, unused part of the ground that stands on now one continuous piece of ground. grass that are little taller, collections of pebbles, that kind of things. doesnt matter how clean you've picked up the pieces, it's apparent mess. persons whose been around for a bit would remember that big dramatic fall of the berlin wall. not only things fell apart, people fell apart, away from their artificial segregation, limitation, definition and safety.
now,
unless you take some serious effort and change everything else around it, let's say, put a new patch of grass that goes 'over' the parts (which is a very bizarre thing to watch, people rolling out live patches of grass, as if it's just a piece of carpet), or put bricks on top of it to create a stoned path etc., it stands out like a fresh pink flesh under the scab that just fell off.
why do we build walls and fortresses? to keep things out, you would say, what a dumb question. okay, second dumb question, which is unevitable as the first question was dumb to begin with: what are you trying to keep out and why? oh. now, you can hear the little cogwheels start to turn if you really pay attention.
wall, by existing, creates opportunity for all kinds of possible situations:
to run into, to climb over, to breakthrough, to push through, up the wall, etc.
for some reason, in my head, all those idioms describe somewhat stressful, if not hilarious, situations. none of them too easy, silly enough. if you were a child who ever tried to climb through a tall wall, or even worse, walk onto a wall (i still do this on regular basis with the stupid automatic sliding door between my feeding lot in vistas cafeteria and my quarter at lloyd hall, as i walk too fast for the sensors-or the door is slower, somehow disagrees on the timing. bam. the wall wins all the time, in case you wonder. i havent gone through that yet), you know EXACTLY what im talking about. ouch. that makes my forehead hurt. phantom pain. more on that later.
a book bomber (much like the old guerrilla war tacticians sprinkling the ground with landmines) have dropped a book this afternoon and monkey picked it up. as monkey do. gah.
this week must have had a big memo circulating with the theme of safety, as the bomb was kindly marked on the one of the most difficult imagery of the wall: resistence.
though mr. krishnamurti (author genius) lead his flock of idiots on a rather gentle path (dont get me wrong, i dont think i would made the cut to be part of the flock, since even idiots are not created all the same) about the concept of self-created wall of resistence, i am still chewing on that piece with weird sense of vigor and conviction. conviction for what? may be the hope of comprehension.
i will hopefully have more ideas to expand from it once i finish chewing and digest it a bit, but for now, the concept of the wall and where i stand creates a rather bizarre, unexpected image in my head. my wall is coming down, slowly. and interestingly, it's not who's taking it down. i see that i am in the path of progressing storm, perhaps a maelstrom. how appropriate: the word maelstrom is a smashed version of two separate things, 'grind' and 'stream,' from the notorious norwegian sea phenomenon. edgar allen poe does a fair justice to the massive energy of these whirlpools in one of his stories. worth checking it out.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/A_Descent_into_the_Maelstr%C3%B6m
no matter how hard i thought i tried to build these wall of safety, a nook where i would slowly get comfortable, lazy, easy, petrifying to a dried up, shriveled piece, an apparition of a past, somehow, the wall is coming down again, taken apart with a smashing noise and great deal of dust, like that old fort walls crumbling in the raging tides of a storm.
rather dramatic, but i am somewhat reluctantly happy that the walls are now cracked, at corners, some already rolling off the ground. i am sad to see it go, but once i step out from the old wall-markings, and continue on to what used to be a one continuous piece of ground, i am sure my perspective will change. somewhat drastically.
let's see what have been going on out of this wall.
monkey's not so willing to take the chance, but since the wall is coming down anyways, and it'll never last over the progress of time, may as well take a walk over the crumbled ruins, shall we?
now,
unless you take some serious effort and change everything else around it, let's say, put a new patch of grass that goes 'over' the parts (which is a very bizarre thing to watch, people rolling out live patches of grass, as if it's just a piece of carpet), or put bricks on top of it to create a stoned path etc., it stands out like a fresh pink flesh under the scab that just fell off.
why do we build walls and fortresses? to keep things out, you would say, what a dumb question. okay, second dumb question, which is unevitable as the first question was dumb to begin with: what are you trying to keep out and why? oh. now, you can hear the little cogwheels start to turn if you really pay attention.
wall, by existing, creates opportunity for all kinds of possible situations:
to run into, to climb over, to breakthrough, to push through, up the wall, etc.
for some reason, in my head, all those idioms describe somewhat stressful, if not hilarious, situations. none of them too easy, silly enough. if you were a child who ever tried to climb through a tall wall, or even worse, walk onto a wall (i still do this on regular basis with the stupid automatic sliding door between my feeding lot in vistas cafeteria and my quarter at lloyd hall, as i walk too fast for the sensors-or the door is slower, somehow disagrees on the timing. bam. the wall wins all the time, in case you wonder. i havent gone through that yet), you know EXACTLY what im talking about. ouch. that makes my forehead hurt. phantom pain. more on that later.
a book bomber (much like the old guerrilla war tacticians sprinkling the ground with landmines) have dropped a book this afternoon and monkey picked it up. as monkey do. gah.
this week must have had a big memo circulating with the theme of safety, as the bomb was kindly marked on the one of the most difficult imagery of the wall: resistence.
though mr. krishnamurti (author genius) lead his flock of idiots on a rather gentle path (dont get me wrong, i dont think i would made the cut to be part of the flock, since even idiots are not created all the same) about the concept of self-created wall of resistence, i am still chewing on that piece with weird sense of vigor and conviction. conviction for what? may be the hope of comprehension.
i will hopefully have more ideas to expand from it once i finish chewing and digest it a bit, but for now, the concept of the wall and where i stand creates a rather bizarre, unexpected image in my head. my wall is coming down, slowly. and interestingly, it's not who's taking it down. i see that i am in the path of progressing storm, perhaps a maelstrom. how appropriate: the word maelstrom is a smashed version of two separate things, 'grind' and 'stream,' from the notorious norwegian sea phenomenon. edgar allen poe does a fair justice to the massive energy of these whirlpools in one of his stories. worth checking it out.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/A_Descent_into_the_Maelstr%C3%B6m
no matter how hard i thought i tried to build these wall of safety, a nook where i would slowly get comfortable, lazy, easy, petrifying to a dried up, shriveled piece, an apparition of a past, somehow, the wall is coming down again, taken apart with a smashing noise and great deal of dust, like that old fort walls crumbling in the raging tides of a storm.
rather dramatic, but i am somewhat reluctantly happy that the walls are now cracked, at corners, some already rolling off the ground. i am sad to see it go, but once i step out from the old wall-markings, and continue on to what used to be a one continuous piece of ground, i am sure my perspective will change. somewhat drastically.
let's see what have been going on out of this wall.
monkey's not so willing to take the chance, but since the wall is coming down anyways, and it'll never last over the progress of time, may as well take a walk over the crumbled ruins, shall we?
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