Brick walls... every direction I move, brick walls.  Everything big and small I want to do, brick walls.  I squeeze out through a hole and find myself free to communicate, free to create, free to accomplish, free to do.  Then I realize the new space I find myself in is so vast as to dilute.  Nothing satisfies, it spreads out to fill the infinite and then seems so insignificant.  Crawl back through the hole until I feel like the brick walls are in my way again, until I wish I could call, until I think I could make a difference.  That hole is always hard to find from the inside, but so easy to locate from the outside.

 

I have things to say. I want to know you, Chad... I felt that when I saw you.  I miss Jr. and I don’t even know him.  I want to respond to everything that has been said.  I want to write all that I think of.

 

I know where the brick is that belongs in the hole.  I feel it in my stomach.