# Demark

## Lines We Draw

We live surrounded by lines. Invisible ones divide us—opinions, roles, expectations. A child draws a fence around their garden to keep out the weeds. Adults draw thicker lines: borders on maps, labels on people. These marks give shape to chaos, but they also confine. On this midwinter day, December 18, 2025, with frost etching windows, I wonder about the lines we no longer need.

## The Gentle Erase

Demark is the quiet act of lifting those lines away. Not with force, but a soft stroke, like rain washing sidewalk chalk. Imagine a notebook page crowded with underlines and highlights. Demarking clears it, leaving space for new words to breathe. It's not destruction; it's return. We peel off the sticker of "success" or "failure," revealing the plain paper beneath. In that space, connections form without effort.

## What Remains

When lines fade, what shows? Open fields, shared glances, the warmth of a hand in winter cold. Demarking invites us to see each other unmarked—simply human.

- A stranger's smile without judgment.
- A conversation flowing free.
- The self, whole and unmarked.

## Horizon

*Demark, and watch the world soften into one.*