THE WALL

Panic stricken and panting I arrived. There it was. A fucking huge
wall. An obstacle blocking my progress. A visible representation of all
that I cannot achieve covered in graffiti and unscaleable. Nervously I
look behind me. I lash out at it kicking and punching but to no avail.
It is rock solid. I jump but find it too high. I take a running jump
and succeed in bashing my nose upon it. I shout "Fuck It!" in pain and
frustration. I sit down and rest my back on it. I take off my shoes and
massage my toes; they are sore from kicking the wall. My little toe is
black and bruised. I know how it feels. I am a failure. I can't achieve
the one thing I need too which is to get past this fucking wall.

All my life there have been walls. A failed romance I cut off the pain
by building a wall. A hurtful comment and up goes another wall. They
vary in size and importance but always there is a wall. An event I had
not anticipated, a sense of failure knowing I could have given that
little bit more and up goes yet another wall.

I stand up a new resolve takes hold. I will conquer this wall or die
trying. My fingers feel for gaps or cracks in the brickwork anything
that will help to support my weight. Miraculously I find them. I begin
a slow ascent of the wall. Progress is slow but steady. The ground
begins to look smaller. I can see the top! It is within reach. I reach
up grabbing the top and my other hand slips from the precarious
handhold. I slide painfully back to the bottom. My hands and face are
scraped from the friction of the rapid descend. I sigh heavily and rest
panting in a heap on the floor.

I start to relax resigned to my fate. I was not meant to succeed. I was
born to be a loser. Walls are there to stop the likes of me getting
above ourselves. I would give up; walk away just as soon as I had the
energy. The tiniest stubborn fraction of my mind said no. It niggled
away daring me to carry on. Inwardly I argued with it pointing out that
it had no business within my head and perhaps it had better clear off
before I imagined it away. The inward battle of logic carried on for
some time until it was rudely interrupted by the arrival of a small boy
into the alleyway I was lying in. He looked around furtively almost
guiltily. When he was satisfied all was well, having not seen me in the
darkness he reached behind a large industrial size dustbin and pulled
out a shiny aluminium stepladder. I watched in disbelief as he
approached the wall. He gently placed the ladder against it and slowly
climbed up and over the wall leaving the ladder. I stood up and dusted
myself off. I climbed the ladder and as I reached the top rung the
ladder slipped from underneath me and I went crashing to the floor once
again. Time froze. I seemed to be moving at the speed of a snail on
dope. I hoisted myself up and limped whistling nonchalantly from the
alley. Fuck it I'm going around.