Walls
I had the strangest segment of thought this morning, as I was driving home. It all started when the idea of a wall popped into my head, completely unbidden and driving whatever else was muddling around in my thoughts completely out.
A wall, in its way, can never be said to fall. Fell, yes, but never actually fall. A wall may crumble, shatter, splinter, and be destroyed, but it never falls. Debris may fall, but the wall is still standing, even if crumbling. When it is gone, it can be said that it fell, but there is never a point where you can say it falls. A wall does not keep prisoners, nor does it keep things enclosed. A wall shelters and protects, keeping out the cold of the wind and the wetness of the rain. A wall is built only to protect and defend, to keep out that which would do harm. A wall cannot prevent passage to one inside; the door through it may be locked, but the wall is not what bars you. That is the door. A wall is not the same as a fence. A fence is the opposite of a wall. A fence allows things in, and protects nothing. A fence keeps prisoners and entraps the unwary. A wall would not, and could not, do this. A wall is built for protection, to create a warm sanctuary from everything bitter and wrong. A fence is a breeding ground for tragedy and discomfort. A fence does fall, always, with time. A precise moment can always be pointed out where the fence fell, when it falls. A wall and a fence can be confused, as humans are oft to confuse justice with vengeance and courtesy with mocking, but rarely for long except by those fully deluded. The two are as separate as East is from West, and never shall they meet. A wall is the very antithesis of a fence, and though they may seem similar, a most cursory analysis will tell them apart. A wall always stands, and while it might be destroyed, or weathered down, or dismantled, it cannot be said that it falls. Even when a wall has been shattered and destroyed, and the debris been removed for some constructive purpose which can hardly be guessed, one will always find the base of that wall, sometimes entrenched deep and buried, still standing.
A wall, in its way, can never be said to fall. Fell, yes, but never actually fall. A wall may crumble, shatter, splinter, and be destroyed, but it never falls. Debris may fall, but the wall is still standing, even if crumbling. When it is gone, it can be said that it fell, but there is never a point where you can say it falls. A wall does not keep prisoners, nor does it keep things enclosed. A wall shelters and protects, keeping out the cold of the wind and the wetness of the rain. A wall is built only to protect and defend, to keep out that which would do harm. A wall cannot prevent passage to one inside; the door through it may be locked, but the wall is not what bars you. That is the door. A wall is not the same as a fence. A fence is the opposite of a wall. A fence allows things in, and protects nothing. A fence keeps prisoners and entraps the unwary. A wall would not, and could not, do this. A wall is built for protection, to create a warm sanctuary from everything bitter and wrong. A fence is a breeding ground for tragedy and discomfort. A fence does fall, always, with time. A precise moment can always be pointed out where the fence fell, when it falls. A wall and a fence can be confused, as humans are oft to confuse justice with vengeance and courtesy with mocking, but rarely for long except by those fully deluded. The two are as separate as East is from West, and never shall they meet. A wall is the very antithesis of a fence, and though they may seem similar, a most cursory analysis will tell them apart. A wall always stands, and while it might be destroyed, or weathered down, or dismantled, it cannot be said that it falls. Even when a wall has been shattered and destroyed, and the debris been removed for some constructive purpose which can hardly be guessed, one will always find the base of that wall, sometimes entrenched deep and buried, still standing.