Some years ago, a man decided to draw a line on a piece of paper. This line was given the name "border". And so a "country" was born. After it was done, others did the same. And the world was divided.

Neither the line, nor the country exists in reality. If one stands on a "border", there is no line to be found anywhere at all.

But people bleed and die because of the line and the country, which only exists in our imagination.

Our thoughts, is our prison. Within the structures created by the mind of man, we fight and think what we are doing is quite important.

In truth, we bleed and die for nothing which is truly real. None of it, truly necessary if we had only recognised the truth. One world. One people. One consciousness. One being.

A sad state of affairs.