The walls here have pictures, menus, memories. I wish they could talk. I would know who all these people are, what you ate there, what you remember. I’ll leave my mark here; I’ll write on a blue post-it and hang it next to the picture of the old church.
a lot of walls in the country for man to tear down and put away their guns and love each other. You can paint them to make them look pretty if they are already there. But no walls in the head… no walls in the mind. Wishing all the walls were pretty d
Walls surround and keep in, but also keep out. I have said that my wish is to live my life surrounded by windows rather than walls. That lets the light in.
White? Red? Black?
Or metaphorical?
I feel like I’ve put up so many in my life, especially after what went on with my ex. Contrary to what would happen in reality as opposed to the metaphor, they’re so easy to put up, and so difficult for anyone to take down.
Walls are great for privacy and it’s the cheapest way to change the look of any room, painting your walls. My walls need more pictures on them right now they look sort of empty. They also have dents from my two little boys. Walls everyone has them on facebook.
There was only a wall between us. We had fought the night before. It was the kind of fight where only the emotions are left the following day — with no reminders of the content. So we moved to to one side of oureslves, and found a door, a window, or just a crack that could let the light in.
we’ll build a world without walls. hope for the future in summer camp. walls around me. holding up the roof over my head. closing me in. walls between me and my goal, walls of safety.
a world without walls doen’t sound too good to me, really. we need some kind of definition to the world. walls give that.
Sometimes constraining . When you want to get away it can feel like they are holding you in. But other times they are so simple and safe it just feels good to be surrounded by them and you can shut out the noise of the crazy outside world. They can be beautiful covered in amazing things!
These walls are too hard to climb tall with brick. Hard to see over. There is nothing I would love more than to see what is on the other side of this wall. Could I peak even? A latter, maybe or a telescope would do, but as I look around there is nothing here. I just see prick upon brick upon brick. Help me to get out!
The walls of 221B Baker street could tell stories, even to those not as gifted at reading details as its world-renowned resident. The bullet-hole-riddled yellow spray paint smiley face was, of course, the most distinguishing feature, a playful reminder of a successful case and the ensuing boredom. Alongside the remaining ash from the explosion next door, and the few scattered drops of blood flung about from a harpoon, the smiley face almost seemed to be hiding the secrets of its owner.
John Watson sighed as he ran a hand over this scar in the floral paper. When he’d first moved in, there had been plenty of walls between him and his flatmate. And to be sure, there were still a few remaining. Sherlock did not easily volunteer information about himself, only others. But as the two grew closer, John could begin to see the walls coming down, one by one. Sherlock’s giddy laugh of excitement, his smile at a compliment, or his concern for John and Mrs. Hudson when they were placed in danger, each one felt like a secret view into the humanity of this man who tried so hard to be something else.
This was why it had hurt so much, when in those fleeting last moments, Sherlock had tried putting all those walls up again. John supposed it was supposed to be a barrier from the pain that would come from losing a best friend and an amazing genius… But it was too late. John had already seen behind those protective walls, and knew better than to believe that anything else but the man he’d gotten to know lay behind them.
Walls are all over. Walls can be wide open, or small and close. Walls can be painted or covered in wallpaper. Walls are made of plaster, dry wall, and wood. Fires can start in walls. Walls are what divide rooms in houses and buildings. Walls have decorations on them like posters or paintings.
As an avid writer I spend a lot of time staring at walls. This wall has three large spots with paint peeling, revealing the white wall behind it. Paint it, I hear you say. Not in this lifetime. We are in the midst of painting the outside of the house and regrettably did not have the foresight to hire a professional. Nine months later…
walls confine a lot. i don’t usay like them. but they protect as well, so i dont know. four of the makes a wall. windows house in them. so thats preety cool. actually. no. i dont like them.
Everyone has them. From the beginning of our lives we start to build them–from the very first time we’re hurt. We learn to build walls to protect ourselves. When someone tries to get to know us, it can be scary to try to let them in.
Walls. We build them to protect ourselves. To hide behind them. To make sure no one sees who we really are.
We are afraid that if the walls fall, then everything will shatter.
Why are we so afraid to show who are we? To let the walls fall down? To be authentic. To be real. To stop hiding behind facades, but to really be the people we really are? Why do we find it easier to be fake? To lie to ourselves, instead of telling the truth and showing the truth?
Markus wasn’t used to dirt walls. Every so often, when he was passing through their quarters, he would brush against the living room wall, and make a face when dirt would sprinkle into his hair.
“Will I ever get used to this?” He murmured to Falon, brushing dirt from the shoulder of his shirt. Falon smiled cheerfully at his husband over his teacup.
white and blank and beautiful because they are space. the kind of things that people put up when they don’t want you to enter their truth, their safe haven. walls. in boundaries we find freedom. walls.
Separate rooms. And people. We put them up. Sometimes too many, sometimes not enough. But then we make holes in them. We walk through doors and we let people in. Also, it’s a really good Jewish bakery in Long Island, but it doesn’t quite fit the same metaphor.
closing spaces, confinement but also support and structure. walls should be clear not opaque. walls are more obstructions then support. But they are the founding for everything
Walls act as our barrier. They shield us from the outside world, keep us in and hide us. With them we cannot be seen as we truly are. Yet, if they dare fall, what then? What will be revealed that had previously been locked away for centuries?
The beats drop low, dripping like an icicle, melting the walls. I grasp her cold hand tight, rushing into the chaos. Pushing away kids drunk with booze and excitement, we make it into the eye of the hurricane, beat taking over.
walls need not keep us apart … they can create boundaries that can lead to healthy relationships … perhaps rather than tearing down walls, we work on making windows and doors …
Walls are so pointless. They just keep you in. It is trapping you. You cant be yourself and let your colors show. Its like a storm makes you stay in one place. Or a tainbow and makes you feel safe. Either way you cant get out. They arent going to talk to you or yell at you. They arent going to comfort you or make fun of you. Whats the point
The walls are not here to keep the siege engines out, although they work to do that. The battering ram can’t come through the earthworks – it’s all safe inside for you weeping women and you crying children. The walls are not here to keep you save, although they do that too. The men outside scream and yell, and threaten your menfolk, but only during the sallies is there any bloodshed, so you might as well cry and lament now while you still have breath to draw, for the true killer is inside your cities, and you will all starve.
confining. ability to scale, break down, but also inhibit oneself from others and self. can be transparent to the naked eye, or stalwart and overbearing.
The walls were covered in pictures of fairies and historical figures that you do not recognize.
You never suspected that becoming Nate’s server player would open your eyes to how much of a wierdo he actually is.
You will pester him relentlessly about it.
There are walls everywhere on the landscape, small crumbling brick walls, huge steel monstrosities lined in barbed wire with search lights on top, clear thin walls of paper, and some walls that are only in her mind.
Sometimes it is the bricks that hurt
Sometimes it is more like a fence
Spaces that we see through
To the fields the sky the sun just beyond
On the other side of the walls
the walls were closing in. white blank walls just staring at me with glee. I was trapped. I rocked back and forth hoping to escape somehow, not realizing that rocking wasn’t getting me anywhere. I had to see what was around the corner but there wasn’t one.
If these walls could talk. Well, I’d fall out of my chair if they did. Then I’d scream all the way to the garage as I scrambled to find the sledgehammer. Or the crowbar. Anything to stop the walls from talking and causing me such unrest. It would be like I was trapped in an Edgar Allen Poe story or something.
The walls here have pictures, menus, memories. I wish they could talk. I would know who all these people are, what you ate there, what you remember. I’ll leave my mark here; I’ll write on a blue post-it and hang it next to the picture of the old church.
a lot of walls in the country for man to tear down and put away their guns and love each other. You can paint them to make them look pretty if they are already there. But no walls in the head… no walls in the mind. Wishing all the walls were pretty d
and the walls came tumbling down. DOWNNNN at the battle of jericho. she sings in a gospely tone.
Really.
Hmmm.
Why go with the obvious.
Codes are like walls anyway.
Walls
Around me
Walls
Between me and you
Walls
Between me and me.
Break walls, break.
Let me be free
Walls surround and keep in, but also keep out. I have said that my wish is to live my life surrounded by windows rather than walls. That lets the light in.
White? Red? Black?
Or metaphorical?
I feel like I’ve put up so many in my life, especially after what went on with my ex. Contrary to what would happen in reality as opposed to the metaphor, they’re so easy to put up, and so difficult for anyone to take down.
Walls are great for privacy and it’s the cheapest way to change the look of any room, painting your walls. My walls need more pictures on them right now they look sort of empty. They also have dents from my two little boys. Walls everyone has them on facebook.
There was only a wall between us. We had fought the night before. It was the kind of fight where only the emotions are left the following day — with no reminders of the content. So we moved to to one side of oureslves, and found a door, a window, or just a crack that could let the light in.
we’ll build a world without walls. hope for the future in summer camp. walls around me. holding up the roof over my head. closing me in. walls between me and my goal, walls of safety.
a world without walls doen’t sound too good to me, really. we need some kind of definition to the world. walls give that.
Sometimes constraining . When you want to get away it can feel like they are holding you in. But other times they are so simple and safe it just feels good to be surrounded by them and you can shut out the noise of the crazy outside world. They can be beautiful covered in amazing things!
Move beyond the walls that confine my thinking of what is possible and into what you’ve only imagined. Now stay there.
four realms
surround and bounce
ideas like balls
bowling for something
to strike a spark
a match
missed its mark
and echoes wet realities
unintended with lukewarm dullness
Sometimes people build walls around them as a means of protection from the outer offenses.
These walls are too hard to climb tall with brick. Hard to see over. There is nothing I would love more than to see what is on the other side of this wall. Could I peak even? A latter, maybe or a telescope would do, but as I look around there is nothing here. I just see prick upon brick upon brick. Help me to get out!
The walls of 221B Baker street could tell stories, even to those not as gifted at reading details as its world-renowned resident. The bullet-hole-riddled yellow spray paint smiley face was, of course, the most distinguishing feature, a playful reminder of a successful case and the ensuing boredom. Alongside the remaining ash from the explosion next door, and the few scattered drops of blood flung about from a harpoon, the smiley face almost seemed to be hiding the secrets of its owner.
John Watson sighed as he ran a hand over this scar in the floral paper. When he’d first moved in, there had been plenty of walls between him and his flatmate. And to be sure, there were still a few remaining. Sherlock did not easily volunteer information about himself, only others. But as the two grew closer, John could begin to see the walls coming down, one by one. Sherlock’s giddy laugh of excitement, his smile at a compliment, or his concern for John and Mrs. Hudson when they were placed in danger, each one felt like a secret view into the humanity of this man who tried so hard to be something else.
This was why it had hurt so much, when in those fleeting last moments, Sherlock had tried putting all those walls up again. John supposed it was supposed to be a barrier from the pain that would come from losing a best friend and an amazing genius… But it was too late. John had already seen behind those protective walls, and knew better than to believe that anything else but the man he’d gotten to know lay behind them.
Walls are all over. Walls can be wide open, or small and close. Walls can be painted or covered in wallpaper. Walls are made of plaster, dry wall, and wood. Fires can start in walls. Walls are what divide rooms in houses and buildings. Walls have decorations on them like posters or paintings.
As an avid writer I spend a lot of time staring at walls. This wall has three large spots with paint peeling, revealing the white wall behind it. Paint it, I hear you say. Not in this lifetime. We are in the midst of painting the outside of the house and regrettably did not have the foresight to hire a professional. Nine months later…
walls confine a lot. i don’t usay like them. but they protect as well, so i dont know. four of the makes a wall. windows house in them. so thats preety cool. actually. no. i dont like them.
The walls inside our house were covered with finger paint fingerprints,
Everyone has them. From the beginning of our lives we start to build them–from the very first time we’re hurt. We learn to build walls to protect ourselves. When someone tries to get to know us, it can be scary to try to let them in.
Walls. We build them to protect ourselves. To hide behind them. To make sure no one sees who we really are.
We are afraid that if the walls fall, then everything will shatter.
Why are we so afraid to show who are we? To let the walls fall down? To be authentic. To be real. To stop hiding behind facades, but to really be the people we really are? Why do we find it easier to be fake? To lie to ourselves, instead of telling the truth and showing the truth?
Markus wasn’t used to dirt walls. Every so often, when he was passing through their quarters, he would brush against the living room wall, and make a face when dirt would sprinkle into his hair.
“Will I ever get used to this?” He murmured to Falon, brushing dirt from the shoulder of his shirt. Falon smiled cheerfully at his husband over his teacup.
“Probably not!”
white and blank and beautiful because they are space. the kind of things that people put up when they don’t want you to enter their truth, their safe haven. walls. in boundaries we find freedom. walls.
Separate rooms. And people. We put them up. Sometimes too many, sometimes not enough. But then we make holes in them. We walk through doors and we let people in. Also, it’s a really good Jewish bakery in Long Island, but it doesn’t quite fit the same metaphor.
closing spaces, confinement but also support and structure. walls should be clear not opaque. walls are more obstructions then support. But they are the founding for everything
Walls act as our barrier. They shield us from the outside world, keep us in and hide us. With them we cannot be seen as we truly are. Yet, if they dare fall, what then? What will be revealed that had previously been locked away for centuries?
The beats drop low, dripping like an icicle, melting the walls. I grasp her cold hand tight, rushing into the chaos. Pushing away kids drunk with booze and excitement, we make it into the eye of the hurricane, beat taking over.
Once upon a time there was a wall with a wall-like exterior.
walls need not keep us apart … they can create boundaries that can lead to healthy relationships … perhaps rather than tearing down walls, we work on making windows and doors …
Walls are so pointless. They just keep you in. It is trapping you. You cant be yourself and let your colors show. Its like a storm makes you stay in one place. Or a tainbow and makes you feel safe. Either way you cant get out. They arent going to talk to you or yell at you. They arent going to comfort you or make fun of you. Whats the point
The walls are not here to keep the siege engines out, although they work to do that. The battering ram can’t come through the earthworks – it’s all safe inside for you weeping women and you crying children. The walls are not here to keep you save, although they do that too. The men outside scream and yell, and threaten your menfolk, but only during the sallies is there any bloodshed, so you might as well cry and lament now while you still have breath to draw, for the true killer is inside your cities, and you will all starve.
They say walls have ears
But do walls have eyes?
Do walls have mouths?
Could they tell you a story if you wanted to hear one?
confining. ability to scale, break down, but also inhibit oneself from others and self. can be transparent to the naked eye, or stalwart and overbearing.
The walls were covered in pictures of fairies and historical figures that you do not recognize.
You never suspected that becoming Nate’s server player would open your eyes to how much of a wierdo he actually is.
You will pester him relentlessly about it.
There are walls everywhere on the landscape, small crumbling brick walls, huge steel monstrosities lined in barbed wire with search lights on top, clear thin walls of paper, and some walls that are only in her mind.
Sometimes it is the bricks that hurt
Sometimes it is more like a fence
Spaces that we see through
To the fields the sky the sun just beyond
On the other side of the walls
the walls were closing in. white blank walls just staring at me with glee. I was trapped. I rocked back and forth hoping to escape somehow, not realizing that rocking wasn’t getting me anywhere. I had to see what was around the corner but there wasn’t one.
Beautiful colors, paintings hung in frames slightly askew, colored pencil scribbles half scrubbed off. one orange, three white. Makes my house a home.
If these walls could talk. Well, I’d fall out of my chair if they did. Then I’d scream all the way to the garage as I scrambled to find the sledgehammer. Or the crowbar. Anything to stop the walls from talking and causing me such unrest. It would be like I was trapped in an Edgar Allen Poe story or something.