The fortress in a mayhem

If walls could talk then the earth could announce when its tectonic plates are about to shift to warn living organisms to evacuate to save ground.

If I could talk, I'd be a witness if that were a career, and murder mysteries would not be unsolved puzzles which most of the time have remained dark secrets that are never trailed. The blood is wiped, all evidence flamed and every iota of truth buried. My lips shut and remained block-like just like my body which is meaninglessly motionless.

It's not like I don't have sympathy but I feel emotionless. I am not moved and I can't move even if every bit of particle in me wants to move and segregate. You might be wondering, won't that mean the wall coming down? (Well don't look at me because I stupidly couldn't care less). What would you have said if you can't cry, scream or throw a piece of the concrete you're made of to save someone helpless while a predator preys on them? Yes, I was the witness to a million awful inhumane things done by humans. They should be called inhuman or something else synonymical to disheartening.

We could all agree though, that most often than not, life can be tough, yet it never becomes worthless for a million unreasonable reasons if you have intentional goals to achieve. My life right now may seem worthless because I actually don't have a life, but I do value whatever it seems I have.

I am a simple gigantic wall structured to shield humans from their sins(giggles), excuse my French. I don't know what exactly but I sometimes feel I am crowned with more than what I was made for. It's quite impressive when people use my physique as their blank canvas (Blank? Now that was condescending) to fulfill their artistic desires. Kids testing if their crayons would color my world and make it more fun, or when someone angry thrust their fist in me like they forgot how emotionless I am and how silly they always are. Honestly, I'm plastered, if not painted and it is such an honor for such privileges. If I could talk, I'd offer to coach on self-control and hit six figures with my offers in one standing. But please be reminded that I'm not perfect and I could fall because you imperfect humans made me and that explains why you take me for granted, but still believe I can provide some form of guaranteed support, how pathetic and ironic.

I feel broken and humiliated by your ordeals. Drilling holes in me, leaving me to cracks without repair, your dogs peeing on me as if I asked for a drink. No no, I bet you’re not going to touch me with those muddy, oily, black greasy hands. Do you not see that my entire outfit is painted white? Then again what upsets me most is the mechanic touching me with their greasy palms. Why would a mechanical shop even paint its walls any color other than black? I'd be in therapy to think about it. You'd agree with me if you see me in their shops. You may even wonder if it's really a mechanical shop or some kind of palm art studio. I need a caution sign or a slapping AI of some sort next to me to slap some sense into anyone who tries to touch me because you claim you’re smarter than the AI so you need to act accordingly. I just hate being on display my entire life and having myself stained. It doesn’t speak well of me and I wish to be painted only once to save you some paint and the painter some energy.

It baffles me the different unnecessary tastes and preferences you humans have. Now I know why the scarcity theory in Economics came about. Not to forget the other theory about endless needs and wants just to paint the picture in your minds that human needs are unlimited so you subconsciously make it so when actually it never was. It’s just a marketing strategy to let you think you have to create irrelevant wants and needs to attack your resources to make scarcity true. I feel like it’s a goal to diminish the entire resources gifted to humans till it’s zero and there’s no planet Earth. Or is it just your human nature? The most indecisive homo sapien species who can’t just paint the wall all black and in oil paint if they’d find it unwholesomely necessary to touch me. With a couple living in a house, it’s forgivable to have them paint me black or white to reflect their different worlds but one individual painting me in three or more different colors is inexpiable. Unless you’re two-faced, then it’s fathomable. But I honestly don’t mind being colorful if you could just keep your palms away.

Just like laws and rules, a wedding event center had these in their contract for clients who want to book their venue for their wedding; “No tapes, glitters and confetti on the walls”. Tell me, if you were the couple booking this place and reading the contract, would you tell your guests? If I could talk, you probably wouldn’t have to. I’d just do you the honor of making the announcement myself while the guests make their way into the venue and say “Hey militants! Don’t get too close because I may have to move a step back”. I can sense chaos from afar and a wedding ruined.

Apart from being pushed to the wall, or should I say to the side, I’ve honestly had some sweet memories. Let me sprinkle some positive vibe around like sriracha seasoning on popcorn.

“Wallis, Wallis!” Who calls me when I’m just getting to the good part? Oh, it’s old Carl calling his old pal, Wallis, and not me "wall-is". You get this a lot from these old folks in Jacksonville, Florida.

So back to the drawing board, I honestly love to be in history just like I was in Jericho when the walls came down. And oh, being called "The great wall of China". The most memorable of them all is when I stand tall guarding a castle in a fairy tale story.

If I, a wall could talk, would you dread or be full of pride that I could tell your story? Would you rather not enter a building with a mask on even if it were your own bedroom? For fear that I may shout at you and say, “Y’all look! The villainess is in” and say to you, “Bienvenue sur votre scène de crime"(translated, "Welcome to your crime scene"). Maybe I can't talk now but I will someday. So do things like I am keenly watching and ensure your back is clean because who knows I may be at court attesting to all crimes done behind closed doors yet in front of a wall.

But then again, if I had one wish, I'd wish to walk away without a bargain.