Borders and I: Love and hate

I have a strict love and hate relationship with the borders. There were times they meant to be ‘an end’ in my life and there were times they were just ‘the beginning of a new journey’ that I wouldn’t even dare to confront. Those who are familiar with my life or have experienced those border stories with me know exactly what I am talking about… Painful border crossings usually turn out to reshape itself as a new ‘light’ to follow… But requires iron solid nerves and strong sense of patience…

How many of us have been left with a luxury to chose which side of the border we were going to stand? 

Quite a few I guess… Perhaps that is why the stories of ‘forced border crossers’ (whom are not always called refugees) are at the top of my list…

Or perhaps… The secret impulse I have to cover ‘other’ border crossers’ stories is… to ‘cover myself’… 

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