As a kid, there’s a wall in the backyard where I used to balance. It wasn’t that high but it could be a huge fall on the neighbor’s side as the house was on a much lower ground.
At the court, I was divided at 9. I remember the old and dark wood furniture which seemed even older, and where I sat to be the main witness of my parent’s divorce.
Everything since then was a matter of balance. To keep the balance between them. Inside my head. Outside. And always trying not to fall.
I got stuck on the border. Not the cool Buddhist middle way. The limbo.