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Inspiration



It's London, cold and foggy
He can't tell what woke him, maybe it was the sound of foxes
He thinks as he looks out, thoughts groggy, past the condensation, and starts to wander at life's paradoxes. At least it's not York for gods sakes, But it's no New York, what a difference the 'new' makes,  he thinks as he starts to wake, marvelling at his own powers of observation. But what a difference the view would make!

Coffee clearing the cobwebs from his mind, as his hand wipes the frozen ones from his car, preparing for the daily grind. Thinking on what surprises the day may bring, looking forward to discovering something to make his thoughts sing. Something to help him leave the everyday behind

Would life still be so dreary, if he lived in a place he found exotic? Or is it just fantasy, wishful thinking because he thinks  paris is somehow erotic? It would probably still be abject misery, painfully mundane and would still set his heart to sinking

He wants to express himself, but he just can't seem to find the words
Inspiration strikes, but it's not something he likes. He's just not got anything to say, he only wanted to set himself apart from the hungry herds, and have something nobody can take away
Written by DystopianMelody
Published
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