Brick.

Brick

Imagine now, if you will, building a brick wall. A brick wall. A wall possessing the strength to persist through the ages, to withstand the ravages of time. Decades. Centuries. Aeons. Forever. A wall so strong that it can frustrate the passage of time itself. The Great Wall Of Freeze-Frame. But the wall is not real, nor is it metaphor. It is bullshit. Fuck poetry.
Here is what’s real – LEGO bricks. In my LEGO-box are the skeletal remains of a barely-recognisable construction: Something I made with you over 20 years ago. It’s fucking plastic, but I still don’t dare completely dis-assemble it. The longer I leave it, the more valuable it becomes. Should I ever see you again, I can show you and say “Remember when…”

The bricks have infinite patience.

and time passes.


Image: http://www.public-domain-image.com

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