And above all, watch with glittering eyes the whole world around you because the greatest secrets are always hidden in the most unlikely places. Those who don’t believe in magic will never find it.
― Roald Dahl
It looks crusty from my vantage point, with partially undone, paint flakes flapping and swaying, holding onto their last link to the wall; clinging on for dear life.
That was 7 years ago. A new day is it today, and the broken cracked wall has now been painted over with beige that gleams in the sun.
I remember the day they closed off the streets so kids wouldn’t mess with the wet paint. I recall a particularly gaunt gentleman supervising the angsty workers as they toiled in the burning heat. The beige was a cool, comforting colour that emitted a suffocating, pungent odour but it did the job. It masked all the crack and crevices, and made a broken wall appear new.
Its borders jut out smartly, hosting ledges holding lost knick-knacks; keys, a lone shoe and a wrapper. There’s something almost immaculate about the chaotic randomness of it all – the wall itself is a muted beige that somehow still stands out in a city brimming with noise and neon. It’s summer and yet the lost items on display hint at a bygone winter.
The novel graffiti is bold, colourful and reckless. It hardly makes any sense at first glance – it’s a building but it’s got books for windows and an enormous eye for a door, the background has been partitioned into a night on the left and a day on the right. But a few moments later, I suppose it did make a sort of sense, that kind that vanishes into thin air just as soon as you begin embracing it.
The change in appearance, the progress in civilization and the beauty of chaos all over a span of 7 years seems momentous to me – a being that ceased to live decades ago.
Day and night, I watch each day unfold bringing with it, unknown joys and miseries. And it makes me wonder. How would my life that spanned decades have appeared to a stranger from afar?
A life that dragged along, drenched in monotony substantiated by small talk and fuelled by the need for progress. My life was like that wall I saw, oh – so many years ago! I was broken and scarred but still, I stood and fought my battle. And now deep in the earth snuggled in the roots of love have I been returned to.
A flowerbed brimming with life, masking yet another story that was never seen.
I don’t think we did go blind, I think we are blind, Blind but seeing, Blind people who can see, but do not see.
― José Saramago, Blindness
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From December 2021 to May of next year, the months are specked with exams albeit, with breaks in between but it might be a few months before I can get back online. However, I’ll try to pop back in every now and then, especially for Christmas! The posts for October, November and December have been scheduled beforehand.
As always, I appreciate your constant support and look forward to reading your posts as soon as I get back!
Thoughtfully yours,
D
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