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I had been staring out of the window for I think… well! A long time. My coffee was cold, my cigarette had gone off, the sea was grey, the sky bluish, the sun just rising, the eagles soaring. I can’t remember what I was thinking about. I have been travelling too much these days. Too many beds, too many windows, nothing feels like home. Where was I anyway?

Somebody said psychologist on the TV show playing in the background. Yes! That’s me. I’m supposed to be the one who has my shit together, the one who listens, who understands, who is compassionate. Yes! I chose this, this job, this role. I thought it would make me feel better, somehow, ‘helping’ people. Sometimes, many times, I can’t do it anymore. It makes me sick to think of the struggle so many people go through just for being who they are! Trying to reassure them, that they’ll find hope, that they’ll be ok. But who knows? Will they? Is this world getting better? Will people who feel alone and misunderstood find connection, belonging, someday? I can’t say, I’m not sure. But I reassure them anyway. You’ll find it, on the internet or on the subway, when you least expect it, at an ice cream parlour or a library or a mountain or a beach or under a tree or on a tree, or in a desert.

Will they stay? I don’t know. We never know but we do it anyway. Reach out, connect, love. I wiped a tear, gulped down the last mouthful of coffee, lit my cigarette again, took one last puff and stepped off the window sill. I felt the pull of gravity for awhile. I closed my eyes and surrendered to it. Just as I was about to hit the ground, my wings stretched open and I rose slowly flying ‘straight into the shining sun.’

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