I ran across this the other day so I wanted to share it…  I thought it was good. 

The floor, the wall, the chair and the boy
Written by matisyn of Evans|Blue

There was this floor once; it was made of wood and it was solid.  It felt many footsteps.  It bore them all no matter how heavy or how often they came around.  It had been painted many times over the years.  The layers of stain were thick but they could never cover the stains of time or the damage done by neglect.  Sometimes; no matter how hard you try, you can never cover up the parts that are wasted away by constant retreading.  You can paint layer upon layer but the corruption can only be treated by digging deep.  It can only be repaired by stripping it all away and starting fresh.   You have to go in and remove that bad piece and replace it with something new.  It can take a long time but the hard work will be worth it and it will be exhilirating.There was this wall once; it protected everything that sat inside of it.  It was a combination of wood and nails, of drywall and bricks, all of which don’t provide much refuge on their own but when combined; they lose their identity and they become something substantial.  It is the first line of defense against the  elements.  It keeps out the lightning and the cold rain no matter how relentless they are.  It can take much abuse but it always makes it through the troubled times.  It acts like a tough skin or a hard shell but it knows when it needs to give way and let the sun shine through.There was this chair once; it was weathered and it was made of steel and vinyl.  It stood strong in it’s time.  It was always there.  The stuffing was trying to escape from tears that began as tiny holes but have since burst into a flurry of foam and webbing.  It was almost as if it got a taste of the sunlight that streamed in through a window and it wanted more.  It spent it’s whole life being the beacon for the weary.  It provided relief from the weight of many worlds that all found themselves nestled in it’s warm embrace.  It spent it’s life having a meaning that very few will know.  It had a purpose and it was always fulfilled.

There was this boy once; he stood inside this room and he found himself free.  He armed himself with what he needed to take on a world that was devious and seductive.  He would always try to remind himself that there were many things inside of him that could help him face the darkest days.  He looked out a window and saw that everything was in front of him and the only things that were behind him were the floor, the wall and the chair.

I suppose it depends on your “life” perspective on what you will think about it…. don’t take it out of context.


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