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I am like a cool breeze on a hot day;
I am like a flash of lightning
and the sound of thunder in a wild storm;
I am like a light that guides the way;
I am like a little boy running free
through a head-tall field of corn.

I am like a bird flying free,
and singing loud and listening always
for familiar close and distant calls;
I am like a piece of art that is being remade;
I am like the billions of water-drops that make a waterfall;
I am like the light of the stars,
and the hope that you find after searching and reaching
the centre of a maze.

I am like the leaves of a tree;
I am like the clouds of the sky;
I am the one and only me;
I am the one who feels everything
with all my heart, and who is not afraid to cry.

I am either one way, or another;
I do not often walk the line;
I am a believer that every moment
is full of energy and inspiration;
I am a lover who gives all of myself,
all of the time;
I am the space-ship
that travels to many different and distant space-stations;
I am the echo;
I am the footprint;
I am like the perfect white flakes of snow.

I am like the expression of art
that everyone creates when they are a child
in the form of a hand-print in wet paint.
I am the thoughts that fill the silence;
I am the artist that paints the infinite picture;
I am the question mark at the end of a sentence;
I am always living and hoping for what awaits in the future;
I am a man filled with fascination;
I am the one who will never give up,
and who will keep trying over and over, time and again;
I am surrounded by perfection;
I am who I always am, no matter what day it is, or what time-
no matter if it is a Saturday afternoon,
or a Thursday morning at 1 a.m.

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Every second of every minute,
every hour of every day,
the world turns on its axis,
and having seen the sights of this beautiful city,
having breathed in its air,
having felt every sound invigorate me,
wash over me, and overwhelm me,
it truly feels like this city is not just any city,
its people are not just any people-
it feels like this incredible city, New York City,
is the beating heart of the entire planet,
the centre of the world, the consciousness of reality,
the voice of humanity speaking to the rest of the galaxy.

It’s hard to describe what it feels like
and what you are thinking when you walk the streets and avenues
and you are surrounded by sound, colour, life, love, light,
passion, energy, boundless and breathtaking distance and height-
you find that you are constantly either looking to the distance,
or looking up at the buildings which you cannot see the top of
no matter how hard you try.

Walking through Central Park,
sitting in Central Park, as I am doing now,
on a bench directly facing a statue erected in honour
of William Shakespeare-
hearing, seeing, and feeling the mist of the sprinklers,
inhaling the smell of the grass,
sitting in-awe of the trees that surround me in every direction,
feeling the warmth of the invigorating and glowing golden sunlight,
looking up at the leaves on the trees
unlike any green I have ever seen,
watching people running through the park-
something that people actually love doing,
something that feels so special and unlike being anywhere else-
Central Park, to me, feels like the imagination
of not just the city, or Manhattan,
but also of something greater!
Being here is like a dream, being here is unbelievable,
being here lifts you up, makes you see things,
makes everything clear.

This city has really got under my skin.
This phenomenal, incredible, and beautiful, city
has captured my heart, opened my mind,
gifted me a sense of belonging-
as if I could easily stay here, walk this park every day,
dodge the millions of people on the sidewalks,
wait for the illuminated white figure at the crossings,
ride the subway, meet so many amazing and inspiring people
as I already have and feel like I was meant to be here,
like I was always meant to be here, like I never want to leave-
because that is exactly how I feel when I stop and I think
and I take in every second of peace, serenity, and exhilaration
that being in this city gives me.

This city is a city to be shared.
This city is a city that never stops giving,
and where everything and anything is there for the taking.
This city is a city beyond any expectations
that you could have of a place before you saw it,
and more special than any dream that you could chance to imagine-
to imagine such a place like this before you could see it
with your own eyes, you would not dare.

This city, New York City, means a lot to me.
This city is the place that I cannot wait to return to
again and again, and share every second of its importance,
and revel in its hustle and bustle,
and take-in every inspiring detail as the streets-
the people, its buildings, its life-
makes me feel phenomenal, overwhelmed, and empowered
with the most amazing energy.

This city is somewhere which speaks to me.
This city is somewhere where I feel like I am a part of it,
and it is a part of me.
This city is somewhere I am utterly, tearfully, so sad to leave
because it is somewhere that made dreams come true for me,
gave me experiences, and opened my eyes to another world
of hope, strength, optimism, and prosperity.
This city is always going to be there for me,
and I will always be there for it,
because there is so much for it to show me,
and so much more for me to do, feel, and see.
This city is The City.
There is nowhere else on Earth like New York City.

At the bottom of my garden,
there grows a grand, towering, amazing, apple tree-
I still remember planting its seed in the ground when I was a child,
watering it for the first time with its first vital drops of water,
watching it grow year after year until its top branch grew so high
it looked like it could almost touch the sky
and too high for me to see.
I have had this fantasy for years
of climbing to the top branch of the apple tree
and picking the apple that lies the farthest out of reach,
returning it to my kitchen, chopping it up,
and baking it in an apple pie,
but the apple tree is so dense, precious,
and important to me, to our family,
I would hate to see even a single apple come to harm-
I don’t think I could live with myself
if it got sick or died.

As I stood looking up at the beautiful, majestic,
glowing, due-speckled, green, and red, apples,
as golden sunshine streamed through the apple tree’s branches
and cast a shadow on me, the wind blew delicately,
I heard the sound of breaking and then the sound of something
hitting nearly every branch on the way down
and falling from high above to the ground.
As I looked up, I could see the biggest,
and the greenest, apple that I had ever seen in my entire life,
fall like lightning from a thunder cloud.
I had just enough time to be able to catch a glance
at the great apple and reach out with my right hand
to catch it before it fell and touched the soil
covering the apple trees roots-
the apple was heavier than I expected,
and as it lay in the palm of my hand,
and as I considered what had to happen to make it grow so high
and then fall so far,
I had a revelation about life, about myself,
about what lies at the centre of us all-
human beings, birds, the Earth, as star,
as well as what can be found in an embryo,
or in an apple’s core,
and I instantly had this overwhelming urge to bit into the apple
and potentially taste and be reminded what is important in life:
how what grows above ground and below the Earth
is connected to everything that grows
in a thousand acres of rainforest, in every garden-
what flourishes and what can be found on the ocean floor.

I bit into the apple and the sweet taste of it skin
and the juiciness of its pulp overwhelmed all my senses
and took me back in my mind to the day, to the minute,
to the instant that I first put the apple pip into the soil,
all those years ago,
and I felt like I had witnessed, tasted, and had been gifted
something that I had never experienced before,
and it felt wonderful!

When I blinked my eyes, I was now at the foot of the tree again,
looking up, thinking abut the miracle that is growth
and the incredible significance, the insight,
what we can all learn about life
by witnessing the descent of a falling apple.

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