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  • If walls could talk, I’d like to think that they would keep our secrets for us. Although maybe they would be gossip queens. The upstairs bathroom could know the basements sights and rumors would be spread through doorways and light fixtures. If walls could talk, maybe they would talk to us. Give us comforts for the things they have seen. Because I know they have seen things they might want to forget. Through windows, we see perfect families. The images of lives polished in an artificial glow of happiness and perfection. But there is a reason we have blinds. When the shininess wears off we don’t want people to see that we aren’t as perfect as we appear.
    We are human.
    And that can be hard for us to handle. We have emotions and actions every second of every day. We have struggles and hardships. We have a million things not to be proud of, moments when we are not ourselves, or perhaps moments when we are just being true to what we really have going on inside of us. I think about hate and anger, revenge and pain that always feel right in the moment. You have the girls you hate and the anger at your parents for their inability to let you grow up (or ability to protect you). There is jealousy for the person who wants the one who is closest to your heart. There is pain, times when life lost its point. Whatever that point might be. The times when you’re sitting on the kitchen floor.
    Those walls see it all.
    And who are they to say its right or wrong? They just stay there. Supporting the structure you call home. They watch in silence. I think those walls understand that we just can’t help being human. So I think that if those walls could talk, they would be there for us. Just like the structure they support.
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