As I wake up feeling as void as the dark skies, I take a glance and realize it’s just another morning before the sun peeks a boo. Memories of the past hunting the present and killing the hope of future is making me feel nauseous. Fighting against my will to not feel any better, I grab my hoody and the cycle keys to go to my happy place. I find it unusually thronged yet desolated. So strident yet so quiet. So violent yet so peaceful. I stand on the sand that is as cold as the hearts of the people out there and look at the water which is always in a playful mood. The waves telling “catch me if you can” while the sky slowly starts to blush. I sit here open-mouthed​ on seeing the sight of the shy sun finally start coming out of the clouds. Birds singing the glory of the beach whilst the dogs searching for the bad guys by sniffing is something which is to been seen. Amidst them, I am here drowning in the beauty of the nature forgetting about why I came out the house. That is the magic of this place. No one can return feeling bad from such a vibrant place like this. As I go back home I see that it’s just not another morning. It’s a morning of beauty and bliss.

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From the Origin of time many rise and fall like winter weeds, My identity could not be revealed by anyone, My identity could only be revealed if you know me well. There isn't any great mystery about me. What I do is glamorous and has an awful lot of white-hot attention placed on it. But the actual work requires the same discipline and passion as any job you love doing, be it as a very good pipe fitter or a highly creative artist.


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