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The day had been planned for for months;
the moment had been imagined and re-imagined
over and over over in my head;
the thought about what I would say gave me goose-bumps;
the alignment of all the stars that had to happen
to bring about a meeting of minds, lives, books, authors,
still makes me feel like a kid at Christmas again;
the anticipation, the journey,
the waiting in-line outside the grand Waterstones bookstore
in Birmingham with my friend,
is something that I will always remember,
and it will always be special to me-
I remember bringing more than one book to get signed
by one of my favourite authors,
but just the thought of what I was doing
and who I was doing it with,
and the memory and experience that I was sharing
was what truly made me happy.

Being a writer can sometimes be a solitary endeavour,
and by its nature writing must be a personal act
that only you can do alone;
being a writer can sometimes feel like you are a traveler
off on an adventure,
and the only person who can truly understand what its like,
what it means, and what you can do,
is another writer who is on their own journey-
while sitting in a coffee shop surrounded by sound,
or a writer in their own space,
writing feverishly on their computer or in their notebook,
in the comfort and solitude of their home.

What I loved about waiting in-line for so long
was that I got to listen and notice people around me,
who were just like me,
and who were just as excited about coming face to face
with someone who made them imagine, think, feel,
something, and share something with someone else-
that is exactly what happened with me:
I read something, I was touched by something,
I was gifted an amazing story,
because of a phenomenal and magical writer,
and I instantly felt the need to share it-
as if I were under a spell.

When my friend and I reached the top of the windy stairs,
and finally came eye to eye with the author
that we had both been looking forward to meeting,
I honestly felt like the author, myself, and my friend,
were the only people in the bookstore,
at the book signing event,
and that everyone had suddenly, magically, left;
it was amazing looking down at my favourite writer,
talking to him about how I loved his writing
and the inspirational commencement speech
that he gave a few years ago
which made me too go off on my own creative quest-
however, the truly amazing and the most epic thing ever
was when I took out my own book that I had signed for him
and I handed it to him as I told him that I too was an author,
and to this day I still remember what a thrill,
and what an honour, it was when my favourite author
accepted my own gift and then extended his hand to me,
and in that infinite and fantastic moment
I felt a connection and a transference of knowledge and wonder,
and storytelling magic, from one author to another.

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Sitting on a sandy beach looking out to sea;
sitting at a chess board behind pieces of black and white;
sitting on a deck chair in a beautiful garden
surrounded by birds, trees, flowers, and bees;
sitting, waiting, meeting, thinking, talking,
on a gorgeous morning, on an inspiring afternoon,
under the stars that shine so bright at night.

Talking into the air;
writing what comes to mind;
feeling the sun change the view right in front of you
to reveal something hopeful hidden in the glare;
realizing the importance and the meaning instantly
of a thing that you find;
seeing a photograph and flashing back to the past;
witnessing the building blocks of something
and imagining the finished product in the future;
being the first in line,
when for so long you thought you were the last;
connecting with life like you do with friends on a computer.

Life is sometimes about what you feel,
and about how you make other people feel,
rather than what you know for sure, or what people say;
life is sometimes tough;
life is sometimes good;
life is sometimes rough;
life is sometimes about taking off your shoes
and walking barefoot in the woods;
life is sometimes about making a return to your roots,
especially after travelling far and engaging
in a life-experiencing and world-spanning tour.

When you find ‘the one’ hold on tight to them-
no matter how or why things happen,
make no mistake that there is a greater force
and meaning to everything that is a part of a bigger plan.
When you remember everything that everybody goes through,
you make the most of every miracle that was always meant to be-
even though it may seem to have come out of the blue.

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Opening and closing our eyes.
Inhaling and exhaling.
Watching and feeling our chest rise and fall.
Stretching and reaching for daylight.
Looking at the clock and blinking,
and accidentally losing track of the time.
Lying in bed, turning and stepping out,
and touching the floor of our bedroom with our feet.
Remembering that there is this thing called “gravity”
that keeps us all in-line and walking and standing fine.
Thinking and wondering what the new day has in store.
Doing what you do, as you paddle out to the sea
that is the outside world and leave the bed
that is your island of tranquility shore.

Feeling your mind racing.
Slowly building from a crawl to a run.
Feeling your senses interlacing.
Leaving your house at the velocity of the speed of sound,
like a bullet from a gun.
Chasing a dream.
Hoping for evidence of the unseen.
Seizing every moment of every second,
like riding the energy of a bolt of lightning.
Meaning every word that you say and never holding back
is something that we can’t all do sometimes-
even the sun in the sky is sometimes obscured by cloud,
which stops its rays from shining.

Being where you need to be.
Being with who you need and are meant to be with.
Seeing the things you need to see.
Seeing everything for what it is: a gift.
Remixing the old with the new in your own mind,
and in your daily life.
Fixing the broken as best that you can.
Masking you occasional reactions
with the expressions that people know you by.
Amassing connections that all fit together
to realise the picture of your well-meant and best-laid plans.

Showing yourself for who you are.
Laughing and joking at the unexpected.
Relaxing and shining effortlessly like a star.
Leading, as well as being led.
Standing exposed.
Running for cover.
Making the most of what was chose.
Enjoying every thing about being the road runner.

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The sun in the sky;
the moon at night;
the planets that some people think
their lives and fates are dictated by;
the stars that have inspired me always,
because their light has been around
since the birth of the galaxy,
and their story has always fascinated me,
and their ability to be both timeless and spent
at the same time gives them a god-like status,
and the gift to be a time traveller, a time machine,
an engine of change, a storyteller, a fortune-teller,
that can tell the future, and inform about the past,
speak volumes, and shine bright.

My mind is always a billion miles away,
I am always taking a ride on an asteroid,
painting with the colours of a beautiful nebula,
and marvelling at the miracle of vibrant
and inspiring distant worlds,
and connecting and imagining the dreams of unseen
and amazing life beyond description every day.

The stars speak to me.
The Earth below my feet holds me.
Life embraces me.
The spectacular sight of a continuous and never-ending
sunrise and sunset and sunrise
is what I love to see.
The story of the entire universe,
and the meaning of all life is in me.
The music that I hear playing and resounding
from the hearts of everyone I know,
and everyone who means something to me,
is the true music of the spheres,
the song of life, the meaning of all life,
light, art, science, religion-
what makes you you, what makes every thing everything,
what makes me me.

The universe is an infinite and wondrous ocean;
the milky-way is a coral reef teaming with life
of all colours, shapes, sizes, description-
some that defy explanation and are beyond words;
life is a complex and intricate web of connectivity;
Earth and its countless population is a shining pearl,
whose miraculous appearance and purpose
is only just discovering its great and incredible potential,
and right now, and always, morphing, changing, evolving,
creating, making, and will one day see, understand,
and share the promise of awakening that we have all been awaiting.

We all have a job to do.
We all have a heart that tells us right from wrong.
We all have to look inside and choose.
We all have to sing our verse of the infinitely-layered,
and unique, universal, orchestral song.
We all have a foot-print to leave, a mark to make-
as long as we remember who we are,
and as long as we stay together,
we all have our own chapter and character interwoven
with that of everyone else and everything else of nature.
We all have times when we are both the traveler
and the interstellar storyteller.

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Silence. A pause. A full-stop.
A time to think and see.
A natural and needed interruption,
a resonant song-lyric,
a breath-taking moment,
an opportunity to not have to worry about anything
and simply be.

We all need a break sometimes-
even the best play has an intermission.
We all need to stop and look outside at dusk
and watch the luminous lightning-bugs and fireflies,
and hear the sound of the crickets chirping.
It can be a truly beautiful time,
especially when you have had a lot on you mind recently,
and you want to let all your pent-up feelings and emotions go-
that time when you are looking up at the twilight sky
and you know and you see the universe is telling you something
that it wants you to hear, and you need to hear-
that is the time when you can leave the front door of you open
for the stale air to leave and to let the fresh air come in
and clear your mind and vision, to see things come in
and go out of your life with every breath that you take,
and with every gust that the wind blows.
It can feel cold for a while
while you catch your breath and you breathe in deep,
it can be one of the few moments in your life
when you can actually feel truly free.

Sometimes you don’t know you need someone in your life
until you meet them and they fill your life, days, and hours,
with every part of them;
sometimes you don’t know how much you need something in your life
until you feel like you can’t live without it ever again.
Sometimes you don’t know a road you have been traveling on for years
until you break down on it and you stop and see its scenery
up-close and unexpectedly;
sometimes you don’t know your own self
until you look in the mirror and you ask yourself ‘Who am I?’,
sometimes you have to act selfishly, but not hurtfully-
single-mindedly, but not unashamedly.
Sometimes you have to live the life you want to live
rather than the life others would have you live,
so that even a tear can be a smile of happiness from your eye.

Life is about finding peace.
Life is about finding balance.
Life is about acting on things when you are sure about them,
and about using every ounce of emotion- including fear.
Life is about making the most of everything,
exposing yourself to as much as you can,
and letting your heart, mind, soul, run free of any leash.
Life is about taking every chance.
Life is about… that!

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A red pencil left on a counter.
A takeaway coffee cup with my name written on it
and written in red ink.
Coincidence? I think not!
A much needed intake of inspiration
and a sign for me that could not be more blatant,
nor more louder.
A question to ponder;
a truth to muse about;
a rhyme to write while I am enjoying my favourite drink.
It always amazes me and invigorates me
when I see things of meaning and clues of a great mystery-
and believe me, when I do look, I see a lot.

Every day is different.
Even when you come back to the same place
you have been countless times before,
you and it are always different-
as if the experience, the sound, the smell,
the air, the feeling, the taste,
but what never changes and only feels even more amazing every time
is the return of energy that you get back
for all the time and the currency of thought
and meditation that you have spent.

A heart beats to be heard.
A mind thinks to be stretched.
A voice speaks to be the outward expression
of a vastly deeper reality of what we see around us
than can ever be said completely, concisely, and clearly,
with any combination or any length of words.
An imagination formulates, constructs,
and imagines infinite worlds of wonder
than life, as beautiful, surprising, and random,
sometimes as it is could ever match.

I am seeing red.
This ‘red effect’ happens to me from time to time.
I start seeing this strong and vibrant of all the colours
worn by almost everyone and I see it for the first time
in and on things I look at all the time,
but for some reason I missed the red before-
like when you hear something said by someone
and you say to yourself: ‘Did I hear correctly?
Is that really what they said?’

Colours have meaning.
Colours show mood.
Colours are revealing.
Colours are an important clue.
Colour is something to take notice of.
Colour is deliberate.
Colour is something that can tell you what you need to know-
whether you are looking at or reading the patterns of the stars
that are always there- even when there is blue sky,
or cloud in the sky above.
Colour is more than colour.
And seeing red, for me-
coincidence? I think not!

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Sometimes you think you know the beginning of something
before you know the end;
sometimes you think you know with every certainty
what you are going to do with your life.
When you are a child it is so simple to imagine,
to anticipate, and see the good things that you want to happen to you,
and to you they are not just thoughts that you write in a diary
or a journal, and they are not just the dreams that you share
with your best friend.
When you are a child every first step that you take is an adventure,
and you just do what you feel in the moment,
and you say what you think in an instant,
and everything is possible,
because you haven’t yet been told that the most important thing
to do in everything you do is to try.
There are no disappointments,
at least there shouldn’t be as long as you remember,
even though you are a child, that as long as you still have yourself,
your mind, and your heart, and something to believe in,
and someone to believe in you;
and as you grow older, if you stay true to what feels right
and what your first instincts tell you,
you will one day look back with a smile,
and wonder how unbelievable it is that the moments of your life,
like the years, have gone by so fast-
so much so they feel like they have flew.

I am always fascinated by what the first thought is
that someone remembers of their lives.
My first clear and recognizable memory
is of my first day of primary school,
and being late that morning for some reason.
I am always in awe by what a child says,
no matter what it is, because they never have no end of things
to say about everything, and because they are surprisingly
articulate, knowledgeable, open, and right.
My first day at school was when I first said ‘I’m sorry’
and I gave my first gift to my teacher for being late-
it was only a box of chocolates,
but I do remember her telling me that is was alright,
and her saying thank you to me and to my Mom-
it’s so strange, because even though that happened so long ago
it feels like yesterday,
and at that moment, and at that time,
my mind, body, and senses, raced and lived truly and wholly
in the moment, and I didn’t fixate or even realize
there was such a thing as a horizon.

As we get older, we unfortunately do forget.
In this day and age our lives seem to revolve around numbers
that we feel compelled to constantly remember,
so we can do what we have to do,
and so we can get what we want to get.

The world has changed so much since I was a boy.
I have seen technology, opinions, countries,
cities, sky-lines, people, language,
and what children and adults are constantly being told
what they need in their lives and what they should think-
whether it is an expectation, or an image,
because it is what everyone else has in the form of a
new disposable and unimportant,
but seemingly vital new toy.
But the world is change. Change is the nature of life,
and the life-blood of the entire universe.
When things change everyone know that they must adapt to survive,
and to me that is why change is a gift to be cherished
and relished, not a problem or a curse.

The more we live and the more we experience,
the more our lives blossom in ways that know
and don’t have to imagine when we are a child,
because we feel it in ourselves-
just as we know and feel the change within us,
and sometimes that can make us want to break free
and run wild, unrestricted and unconfined,
and because we are still discovering who we are
and who everyone and what everything is,
nothing is out of reach or not aloud.

What I rediscover and realize more and more day by day
is that I don’t see myself the way I sometimes feel
I am supposed to see myself,
because I see how others my age look at me
and look at themselves,
and because most people these days are so used to
being told what they should think, feel, like, dislike, say, and do;
I suppose I am the opposite of that and I recognize
that same freedom of expression and identity in so many others that I see-
people who just want to be a person and not a number,
even if that number is their age.
I find that if you live free and embrace every hopeful moment
it shows in every part of you,
and to everyone around you it really tells.

As birthdays come and go;
as the days begin earlier, but feel shorter;
as I realize that life is more about who you know
sometimes more so that it is about what you know;
as I realize, what I used to not ever think about
and simply act upon when I was child,
that the feeling of the moment is more important
than worrying about what hasn’t happened yet,
and may never happen.
I realize that even though in counting the years
that I have been alive, breathing, thinking,
and feeling on this planet,
I may appear or seem to be getting older,
I am in fact in spirit doing the opposite of that-
because I truly feel that I am growing younger.

My heart feels like lead.
I don’t even want to get out of bed.
My head is pounding. My mind is swimming.
I feel numb. I have forgotten the touch and the heat of the sun.

At work I am making mistakes, I can’t do anything right.
At home I am reminded of every thing and every one that I have lost,
but the worst thing is that I feel like I have lost the will to write.

The words and the conversations that I have had with people
over the last couple of days have been rattling around in my head
and driving me insane-
to me, love is not something you can pretend to be in,
you are either in love or you are not-
love is not a game.

I am not perfect, and I don’t claim to be and never have,
but what I am is someone caring, passionate, full of energy,
full of life, and the farther the distance between me and someone
I put every second of thought into bridging and connecting
with someone as much as I can.

I have been told that I simplify things too much,
that I sometimes focus and obsess on things and people too much,
and I have to agree with that, I know that about myself,
that is what makes me such a good writer, I like to think-
I like to think, I like to feel, I like to be lost in something
and someone, I like, I love, to be in love.

Anyone on the outside looking in on me and on my relationships
would think that I seek out chaos, that I like the rocky road
more than I do the flat, maintained, tarmac of a highway-
however they would be mistaken, because, believe me,
I want nothing more than to be with someone, to be happy,
and for them to be happy with me,
living the quiet, simple life of embracing and making the most
of every second together,
and never even to think or ever want to walk away.

I have walked away from things and people in the past,
and every time I have hated myself after for it.
I don’t want to walk away from anything ever,
or anyone that I care about and love-
but sometimes I feel like I have worn out my welcome
and I have said and done all I can,
but what is below my feet now resembles a worn-out piece of carpet.

I am hurting.
I am confused.
I am like a computer that needs rebooting.
I am like a battery that has lost its charge and is now used.

It will all be ok tomorrow- I keep telling myself.
It will all work itself out- a friend of mine once told me.
It will be a brand new day, a brand new year.
It will be a fresh start- at least I hope it will be.
It will be a time to change again,
it will be a time to change everything,
and even though it will be hard,
I am willing to see how far I can go-
as long as I remember what my sister told me yesterday:
to “don’t change (my) good heart”.

Under star-lit sky;
beneath the pulse of flashing lights;
when you can feel the vibration travel
from your feet to the irises of your eyes,
when the universal energy floods your mind,
and it doesn’t even matter whether it is day or night-
because you and your music are resonating and moving
to the same frequency, the same vibe-
feeling like a pulsar, and going to places
that no other drug than music can take you to,
and showing you things that are so instant, special, and amazing,
they take you high in ways you couldn’t ever relay or describe.

In your room on your own,
in a public place surrounded in every direction
by people you don’t know;
in a moment of need, in a flash of inspiration,
you hear the song that you have been waiting for,
you become the words and the melody
that makes you feel alive like the new day’s dawn.
You give out a silent but deafening call,
and those who are listening, reveling, receiving,
hear you, and you feel like you are in an infinite room
without any walls.

We all create our own reality;
we all live in moments of infinite meaning and complexity;
we all find the one at the right time,
even if we don’t know it;
we all want a fusion of our dreams
and what we are here to do, make, and complete
in this life, on this planet;
we all can do no wrong if we give our heart
and believe in everything we do;
we all can know no limits if we remember
that everything in life has a cycle,
we all move in a circle,
we all exist in a sphere of constantly interacting
and changing relationships of me and you.

It is the best feeling in the world;
it is the magic that really happens in every note of music,
in every expression of art, in every written or printed word;
it is what excites us when we feel something incredible;
it is what colours our face;
it is what widens our smile, and dilates our eyes;
it is what makes us punch the air;
it is what makes us feel tearful, eternal;
it is what we can all feel and discover in our own perfect time-
because what is out there is everything and everybody,
and is wholly universal.

We all have our own personal rituals;
we all have our own unique quirks
that have meaning for us which we repeat,
because they give our lives balance,
because they connect the dots in our mind
to where we need to be;
we all have our own habits and routines
that are seemingly monumentally crucial;
we all have our own ways of being
that say to the world ‘this is me’.

Some people can’t think straight, nor concentrate,
without their first cup of tea or coffee every morning;
some people feel lost and unable to function
if they don’t have that first sight of the sun,
that sings to them with the power and the voice,
and the music of their favourite artist or band performing.
Some people find it hard to get out of bed
without having something out of their reach
to take a necessary, vital, step towards;
some people feel at their best when everything makes perfect sense,
because everything we see and feel conforms
to the structures of perfection and bliss that we know,
which we take the time to build and keep standing every day
like a house of cards.

Familiarity is very important.
Our trust in what we know works for us every time
is something we hold on to tight-
walking the same route that we know,
wearing the same clothes that we feel comfortable in,
going to the same places over and over again
that like a ghost we regularly haunt,
becomes not just something that we do, but a way of life.

It is fascinating to observe, and to see in my own reflection,
what we all do, and why.
I love glimpsing a idiosyncrasy that I have never seen before-
whether it is one of someone I have never met,
or one of my own that I couldn’t hide, disguise,
or say I do not do it for a reason, because that would be a lie.

Some rituals are hereditary-
passed on from father to daughter, or from mother to son;
some daily routines of ours are like rites of passage for us,
and feel more to us than a simple custom.
Some rituals come slowly to us and grow naturally with us,
and are things that we look forward to doing-
like sitting in a coffee shop writing,
or going to the cinema to watch a movie,
or returning to our favourite shops,
or going back to the places where we have the strongest memories
and the happiest of recollections,
or eating your favourite meal at your favourite restaurant
at your favourite table, with your favourite people,
or going to a concert to listen to your favourite music.

Rituals are a daily prescription for everyone,
rituals are our key to deciphering
the finer details of life’s blueprint,
rituals are what people sometimes remember us by the most-
like a part of our aura that stays with people,
like a characteristic residual.
Rituals are what makes us human.
Rituals are there always in everything and everyone.
Their is no one alive now that I know and see
every second of every day who doesn’t have a ritual.

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