They're building a wall

They're building a wall.

So that chapter ended, and it left me wondering in profound silence. I've never really forgotten that story, despite it lying dormant and incomplete for so long. Such is the power of the writer's words, that even the unfinished can captivate with such powerful imagery. It is this imagery that I shall borrow for the length of this post.

While that was a wall built outside and only triumphed through the inside, it is the reverse that is more frightening.

It's no longer the boredom with the world, the ennui, but rather it is boredom with the people, and the restraints.

I can't believe it.

It's another late night, and I feel detached to everyone else, yet still connected to the world. I hear the voices of people I've never met, that I've never known, and I pray that their words will comfort me in this vast world where I don't seem to have found what I'm trying to find.

I have this sudden urge to travel the world. It's beginning to feel more than a little stifling here. I just feel that I need to get out, and perhaps away from everything else. Even if all it achieves is to frighten me with everything I don't know and everything I fear, and that all I'd want is to be able to crawl back into the safety of the familiar.

Maybe that would be fine.

I think, perhaps it's the people who are frightening me.

It never fails to strike me as strange, how everyone is just the same, just human, but no one can ever say that he knows another like himself.

A far-off, distant ideal of a world where people are completely understanding and accommodating of each other is more than a distant ideal, it's so impossible it's almost scary.

But sometimes all I want is to ask the questions I want to ask, to say all the words I want to say, to feel all I want to feel. I want to sing a song for you, I want to draw you even if you're having a bad hair day. I want to know you, I want to understand you. But that's never going to happen because of all the restrictions, because of all the inhibitions, the fear that something bad's going to happen and you'll fall down, down, down that endless black crevasse.

You know, the wall's built from both sides. It won't be so hard to scale otherwise.

You know, another thing, that time doesn't turn back.

Maybe it's just good timing on my part that I just saw the update on the class blog when I signed in. Despite how much I've been disappointed in the class, despite how much dislike, frustration or even hate I've harboured at some point of time (which I can only express regret at now), I actually felt a tinge of pride to have been part of all this, to be part of this long journey that has lasted 2 years, and potentially more. But as I stared long and hard at the class photos taken on the last week of school, though incomplete and imperfect, I felt the tears slowly well up.

I never got to know these people.

It's been all of two years, and I still am no closer to that answer I've been seeking.

Why do we build the unbreakable wall? How do we break an unbreakable wall?

Or perhaps it's meant to be unbreakable, to everyone except the special ones. But I'm not even sure the special ones exist in the first place.

Maybe I'll never find an answer to this question. But to everyone who's been a friend to me, who I've not yet known and who I might never know, I pray that you'll be fine.

Let the voices sing to the heavens. I pray that we'll be fine.