Imagine a boundless open field. Maybe there are trees, maybe it is completely flat. It is green, and quiet of any sounds not indigent to it. Complete.
Now see, as time progresses in that field, stones being piled. Large, cut stones, with sharp right angles, uniform and perfect in the classical sense of the word. They are stacked like bricks, walling off small circles in the open field. The walls dot the as of yet boundless field.
The wind crossing the field blows through the chinks in the stones. It makes a sound that is unprecedented, but not foreign, as it arises from what is already there, only now in different form. Something of the air, however, is now trapped inside the stone circles.
As time passes, the wind and dust and rain that fall across the surface of the stones create unique patterns in each wall. Leaves and debris also gather inside and over top of the rings, each having its own individual mix. Over the years, the lack of sunlight caused by this covering begins to brown the grass at the centers of each walled circle, until there is none left.
The ensuing muddy compost is a miserable condition. The walls sink into the ground enough to depress it, but not enough to crumble themselves. They are now firmly rooted in their own section of mire.
The mixing humors of air and dust and rotting compost, the remains of its own section of the boundless open field, gather together enough sentience to suffer, and to look out through the chinks in their wall, into the beautiful boundless open field and recognize:
"That across from me is a Wall in a beautiful field.
"I hear it's voice on the wind in its cracks, howling a name, so that must be its name.
"It exists quite like no other Wall in the field; I also appear to be a Wall, so I must also be like no other Wall in the field."
One day, one of the walls finally crumbles to dust. The dust and compost and air rejoin the open boundless field.
The components are the field. The stones are the field. Everything combines. Everything touches. And yet the sentience behind the walls will see only wall after impenetrable wall, planted on a backdrop of field.
What is the field?
What is "you"?
Yeah, it's sort of like Jeopardy. I miss Alex's mustache...
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