Borders

Not having cycled that very long, I already tasted the total freedom which comes with such a journey. I can go whereever I want to. Stay as long at one place as long as I want to. Cycle in one day as far as I want to (or better said, as far as my legs want to). You pass a lot of houses. All nicely and tightly fenced in with either a green bush, a little stone wall or an iron railing. That small spot on the whole world is theirs, the enclosure keeps other people out and keeps the residents safely in.
The ground they have bought from the state. But where did the state get it from? What right do they have to own such propriety? Isn’t the world ours? Why divide it in smaller and bigger pieces? Build fences around it and make a fuss when the tree of the neighbour sheds a shadow in your garden?
I think it is quite a pity when you care so much about borders. Made-up borders, borders inside your head. When I cycle past a couple that is very busy with a huge enclosure, – they even use a tractor that is obstructing the cycle path so that I have to go over the motor way to get around them – I just want to take it all down and ask them (rather shout out to them) what in the world they’re doing. Destroy the borders (especially inside your head) and get out! You don’t have to do that on a bike, there are many ways.
Why work from 9 to 5 to pay for that little spot on earth you call home when the whole world could be your home. Invest in life rather than in cold propriety. Don’t earn money, but earn experiences that last a lifetime and don’t go down the deep hole also known as mortgage.

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