We, at various points in life, draw a line in the sand. Marking where we've been, where we stopped to never venture forward. Winds bring change no lines can withstand. And we draw them again in defiance. We eke meaning from this sand that would otherwise mean nothing to us. Imparting our own ideologies onto an unresponsive medium as a testament to ourselves. Our independence. The sand is most susceptible to change, shifted constantly by the sea, our feet, the wind. Still, we draw our lines anyway.