The hole

It would be very easy to get inside, it wouldn’t take any physical effort. All i’d have to do is to slip iside here. But i’ve always been a responsible person, a bit coward too, when it’s about going agaist the law, or going into the unknown. I haven’t lived great adventures in my past, and knowing me i won’t live any in my future eather... so here i am wondering why have i chosen such a difficult subject to talk about. If we lived in a better world, it would be like playing a game. Many people are able to live certain experiences as if they were a game: searching for adrenaline, new emotions, annoyed by  routine. I like to fly with my mind, invent stories and conversations: confirmation with reality is too hard, and it usually bring along fears and frustrations. The hole is testing me, it invites me, it plays the role of the tempting devil, it shows me how easy it would be to go against everything it was teached to me in so many years. It challenges me to find a good reason for me not to try. Rationally i can think of hundreds of reasons, it reminds me of simple reccomendations inflicted to me when i was just a little girl: don’open the door, nor accept candy, or lifts, from strangers, stay where averybody can see you, stay in the garden, where there aren’t nasty people and no cars... now that hole is inviting me to disobey, to proove my primordial istincts and explore the unknown. The graffiti predict the wild, the unurban,  i would encounter going trough the hole. The colours remind me of zebras and giraffes, and i imagine myself going to a safari. I look through the hole, and all i can see are weeds, anything you can’t find in a florist. The fact i can only see this kind of nature is another good reason for me not go inside: everything you can’t find in a store and is not organized by a human being, it’s unsure, it’s probably unhealthy, perhaps it’s poisonus. And I can just think of the wild creatures hiding in holes dug in the ground, ready to jump out at the first rustle of my steps. I’m afraid enough when i go to the mountains, walking across safe paths! I walk with a stick to keep the snakes away. This reminds me of that Disney movie, about the two twins separated  at birth: they tell their father’s girlfriend, during an excursion in the mountains, to hit two sticks together, to keep the mountainlions away. Their intent was to scare her, obviously: a woman from the city, not used to nature. I live in the city, i often go in the middle of nature, but i’m not sure i can handle the urban nature. God knows how many monsters were generated from genetic alterations, between city and nature! It’s like the urban legend of the alligators in the drains of NY. Maybe someone left a sweet little kitten in an abandoned industry, and eating chemical wastes became a monster like Pet cemetary. With what courage i decide to go inside? With none... i infact stay out!