This is not the Berlin Wall

I don’t know what it is about heads that hit brick walls.
Are we all hitting a break wall with heads not hands? And then to what avail. Nothing really. Except that when you hit your head hard enough you crack it and then you can see things you weren’t supposed to see.

Who built this brick wall anyway? That’s what I want to know. I refuse to hit something without good intentions.

So here I am standing in a big giant line of people hitting and cracking their heads. I keep my head on the wall at all times so as not to attract attention at being forever straight. The man to the left of me cracked his head, sat on his behind and began discussing the lights and paths of his childhood.

Someone asked, “Is this relevant?”

So we took out his brain and we questioned it, and examined it, and then we let it go.
It was not relevant after all. To tell you the truth, I thought it was very relevant, but I didn’t want to lose mine by disagreeing. Actually – I don’t know what happens if you disagree but I fear losing it in consequence anyway.

It is sad though, to see relevant people being let to wander. They don’t have a real task to do anyway. And why can’t you wander with your head uncracked? That’s what I want to know.

It seems so sad too – the futility of myself and our task. I wished that I could have listened to that man’s light stories. But who’s to blame for that but me.