I've always had this fascination with unique walls, especially the uncemented ones where the framework could be appreciated with the naked eye. I know it sounds kinda strange, but it's true. To me they are beautiful and once in a while, I would take a close-up look and realized how these walls have cracks that grew on its own. Often, before painting the walls in my house, I would make sure daddy had filled these defects with plaster, or they could appear obvious when the paint seeps through the faint narrow gaps. It's not something people will usually take notice of, yet a deep crack that winds its way to the core can tumble a wall. Beautiful as a whole, none can accurately predict what's splitting up on the other side.
Sometimes in life, we find such cracks in us too. It's a discovery of something out of the way, extraordinary or less anticipated. It becomes an obsession when we dwell too much upon these findings. Give a little pressure, it turns into a compulsion. I guess, looking at these cracks subtly is the best we can expect from the outcome. For having subtle hope doesn't bring as much disappointment as being on high hopes yet it keeps our spirits on guard.
