As I walk through this funny old life, I can’t help but notice a profound amount of walls. Walls that protect us from the elements. From the frigid frostbite of the freezing winter months to the ever soaking monsoon between blooms of spring. Walls that provide heat for when it is cold outside and a touch of chill even, when the temperature runs ablaze. Walls that make up an abode we label as home, providing comfort that works to its fullest. What marks a man insane? Is it fear of infinite sadness, or a synchronized split between enlightenment and madness? Explorers we are, every single one of us in one way or another. Although, when we reach for something and become flooded in excess, that something can prove too much leaving us weary and without rest. Strip yourself naked of everything that cheers you, all that is dear to you only to find rules you’d once adhere to. Are you lost young man or just simply finding your way? How does one go through a wall? Do they smash it with hammers because it’s big and tall? Or do they drill a hole through the soul and find an elegant flow to meander around it? Sometimes you find yourself next to a wall feeling incredibly not big and tall. Searching for answers they come not so easy. What marks a man an explorer? Is it one that steps out of their house every day in search of that next big pay? Is it one that simply just walks out of their house? EVERY. SINGLE. DAY? After all sometimes a wall is just a wall… with a normal door. Who knows what’ll happen when you step outside the normal.



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