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turn around please turn around
Sometimes in life I look out of the window and see the streets lapping the pavements with rain, pouring, endless pouring. And I listen to the soft rustle as it lays on the ground like a hundred kisses. I can almost hear it telling me of its home, rainforests, park grass, Californian beaches. Its so beautiful, so beautiful that I could stare at it all day just dreaming of life and love and beauty of everything there is. do you ever do that?- sit and watch and listen and think? I’ve been doing that a lot lately, I mean, more than normal.
Every time I get further away from what life is I find myself searching for it again and again until I end up sitting and listening and staring into something that has always been in front of me and that I’ve never noticed.
I sit at my desk and stare out of the window at the rain. The clouds floating so brilliantly free; people around me are talking about others, gossiping, arguing. No wonder I can’t listen to them, so instead I gaze past their faces as they turn to foul-mouth someone or something to me, I gaze past their faces to the beautiful world and know that they may never be able to turn around.
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