I always wondered why we have borders. There are borders between countries, states, even houses. Why do we live in imaginary boundaries? If anyone wants to pitch in, feel free.

Your delusions of existing lines:


                        a flight of insanity, yet basis of design.

An infinite entity, yet measured by its own infinity.

Simple and complex.

    Good and evil.

            Order and chaos.

                                  The simplest break in words—

interrupting the flow of thought—

I forgot that

At an early age, lines are peace.

                   Your first step into order.

Simple, good, order.

                            At your coming, lines are all you see:

the ones that write your future,

the ones that mark sanctuary,

the ones whose infinity is measured,

the ones that separate.


The lines that separate.

             The contrast of unity,

Humanity’s pain.

                          These are the lines that are imagined

                                                                                             by Power,

and manifested into reality by the insane.

Soon, it was the norm,

                                                         Lines spread—

like wildfire—

                                                     and we are—


Humanity is not an accepting species.

             How did this become such a norm

  if no one can be certain they exist?

And so, humanity

                                 lost what united them,

and line after line was drawn.

Soon, there were lines within lines,

which drew lines inside of those—

and even more—within those—

                  We are destroyed

          for our differences—

for what makes us unique—

                what makes us ourselves.

Now there are lines between individuals

                                                                                            and different is bad,

                                                                                             expression is chaotic,

                                                                                             and order is necessity.

The delusion of existing lines:

simple (complex), good (bad), order (chaos).

The End

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