The Short Version

There I was just banging my head against a brick wall when along came some friends who saw this.

"What the hell are you doing Paul!?" they asked.

I paused, "Well, I figure if I bang my head against this brick wall enough, it's bound to come down."

"Paul, you might be the most retarded man on earth," they said.

But I ignored them and went back to banging my head against the wall.

Some time later, they heard I was still banging my head against the brick wall and they came to see if it was true. Sure enough, there I was banging my head as determined as I'd ever been.

"Paul! Please stop banging your head. You won't bring down the wall and you're only hurting yourself," they implored.

"No, I'll be fine, you'll see," I replied.

They pleaded their case some more, but to no avail; I was going to bring that brick wall down with my head or die trying. And when they finally realized I wasn't going to stop, they left.

I continued to bang my head against the wall for what felt like eternity. Sometimes I would hit the wall hard, other times it would be a slow, soft banging. On occasion I would stop the banging and just lean against the wall. But I never left it.

And then one day I thought I saw the wall move, and I thought it was because of me banging against it so much. And I thought that surely this was my opportunity to bring it down. The wall was obviously getting weaker and now was the time for me to give it all I got and bring it down. So I gathered all the strength I had in me and dived into that wall certain that it would come down.

But it didn't. It remained right where it had always been. And as I laid on the ground staring at the wall and wondering how it had not come down, I realized my friends were right. And all I had to show for it was some scars and bruises and a headache that may never go away.