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  • writer, shutter-bug & bookworm
  • Email: nitrogue@gmail.com
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Fly

 

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Close your eyes. Imagine you’re a bird hovering high above the Himalayan mountains. Below you is nothing but dense snow and rocky mountains and above you is just the bright sun. You’re just hovering, gliding, enjoying the cold breeze as it ruffles your feathers.

 

Below you, you know there’s life in the form of deers and rabbits and you feel at one with them. You can feel the flowers blooming. You’re one with nature.

 

And then you suddenly remember the things you’ve missed. The people you loved. The people you lost. For a second there you blame life.

 

But what can you do? You’re just a bird. All you can do is fly. And fly you do. But you enjoy the scenery around you. The beauty of the rocky Himalayan mountains. Nothing matters to you except flying.

 

Sometimes I wish I were a bird. I just want to fly.

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