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Dissolving Margins
Mrs. Voss pulled out her chair, sat at the table and started writing her last letter, crammed on the paper like a shrimp.
Dear almost forgotten Jackson,
I can never forgive the moments in my life that the door was open for me and I just had to walk through it, that the prize was just in front of me and I just had to reach out my hand and grab it, that I had to take a single action and things could’ve gone differently; but I never did. Those are the moments that you are given the chance to take a break of the wall or some day, break it. And looking back, when you regret it, you ask yourself, what stopped me? What could’ve gone differently if the borders between us didn’t exist? Where would I be now if I walked through that door?
The answer tho, it doesn’t matter anymore; it’s now when you realize that you’re poor. Because poor are those who can’t take risks, who can’t go further and pass the borders. Poor are those that see the wall and still choose not to remove, at least, a break from it, because they choose to worry for others and their world instead of choosing to be brave blindly, once.
Of course, it’s easy to say and write these courageous words.
We think that way, we can find stability, by walking on a straight line. As if there is a margin that we walk on and we’re afraid that a single action, a gesture would throw us on the other side. I’ve been walking on this edge presumably my whole life and now I realize that all the efforts to gain that stability was absurd.
There were times I experienced a weird phenomenon, in which the margins of everything around me dissolved, as if I was part of it. I was within and without. While sitting in the class, I was the board, the bench, the pen. I was even the teacher; I was everything. Look how far we can go even with the borders, even with this enormous separation.
So now imagine dear Jackson, what would happen if we allowed ourselves to be freer, to think freer.
Your dearest,
Kate
She smiled as she finished writing, that way she was sure Jackson would abandon her, sooner or later.
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Some pieces have a story behind them; some a feeling or a thought. But some only have a concept behind them, an idea. That alone is enough to come up with your own story when reading it. After all, all stories come from a concept!