thick grey lines

when we’re young, all we ever do is chase each other. there is no greater joy a child recieves than being able to run around, tapping the shoulders of future friends, leaders, enemies. the line between friend and foe isn’t just blurred; it’s not there. but as we grow older, we draw more and more lines. society has a rather thick marker, but grey ink. we start in a straight row, but end up side by side. no one likes being the last in the pack, even if it means leaving. but grey lines hinder our movement, and friendships aren’t the force they used to be. then again in a race, there is no line between friend and foe. and then you start to wish society would draw the line that wasn’t there when you were young. because without the line, it leaves only


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