Borders

Ever tried to colour neatly between the lines and then just decided (‘scuse my language) fuck it? Why am I constrained by these lines someone else has drawn? Maybe I want this giraffe to be striped and not spotted, maybe I want to draw my own lines.

Then you get a bit bigger, you’re told what you’re good or bad at and what you should and shouldn’t do or how to act. Even though those lines are a little blurry, they can still snap back to perfect focus when the stories crop up about dress codes and race or gender discrimination to name a few.

Then you start thinking even bigger, to whole countries and continents divided by sometimes invisible lines and sometimes very clear borders. What really changes when we hop those few inches over these lines? In some cases very little, yet in others all it takes is that little leap for someone to reach freedom or instead find persecution.

My personal struggle recently is the border between myself and some of my best friends and what feels like my second home. I would love to get up and visit every other day and yet I am constrained by time, money and literal continental borders. How is it that I managed to find my people – on the other side of the world?

So borders can suck. I’ll have to stick to the colouring.

Image credit: Here

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