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There are times in your life
when you need a push;
there are times in your day
when you need a boost;
there are times in order to get things done
you have to do them in a rush;
there are times when you have to take a breath
and say “what do I have to lose?”.

We all would love a life of no demands;
we all would love to have a life of no worries;
we all would love to explore at our own pace
the wonders of far-away lands;
we all would love to live a simple life sometimes,
perhaps in a log-cabin in the middle of a forest,
with enough of what we need for a year or two,
surrounded by the sounds, the air,
the smells of nature, and to be able to fall asleep
every night listening to the music of the wind
blowing and rustling the leaves of the trees.

To retreat is not to surrender;
to find a place to rest and collect yourself
is what you have got to do;
to find peace is to find splendor;
to have the time to breath in deep,
and then dive into something head-first
is the indulgent gift of lucky and fortunate few.

Feeling relief can make you feel lighter;
spending time with your favourite person
in the whole world can renew your spirit;
allowing yourself to be dazzled can help you climb higher;
thinking about the possibilities that you know
are within the reach of your grasp,
because of what you have done to get where you are,
can and will give you all that you need
to stop obsessing the what if’s and just do it.

Time is sometimes of the essence;
obligations and commitments are a way of life for everybody;
there is a genuine lesson to be learnt
from the virtue of patience;
you life can feel so much more rewarding when you have a shared hobby.

You have got to make time for work;
you have got to make time for leisure and pleasure;
you have got to make time for perfecting
the unique joys of your own characteristic quirks;
you have to make time to say ‘whatever’,
and know no pressure.

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On a morning walk down the city high-streets,
passed countless people, passed shops,
stores, restaurants of all names,
I am stopped in my tracks instantly when I see
a Golden Gunslinger reading a book
while sitting at the foot of a tree.
I’m not sure how long he had been there,
I’m not sure what he was thinking,
but when I looked at him looking down at his book,
to me, the gunslinger looked
as if he didn’t have a care in the world,
and it seemed as if to the gunslinger
the rest of the world could carry on their way
because he was lost in thought, in state,
and frozen in time, but like a performer at a carnival,
the gunslinger sat with a tin pot
just to the left of his right boot
asking politely of his generous passer-by
for a token of interest, fascination, respect,
and a thought to show that they care.

I sat in-awe of the gunslinger on a bench nearby,
and I even took a picture-
I felt like I was looking back in time,
or as if the gunslinger had been transported to the future,
to our present-
and as I sat looking at him, the sun shone brightly on him,
and made him glow even more golden,
and he looked even more amazing than he did before,
and even the sky above looked even more blue.
I thought long and hard about approaching the gunslinger
and putting some money in his pot,
and I wondered what he would do if I did-
would he lower his book? Draw his gun and take a shot?

The incredible living-statue of the gunslinger
that mesmerised me, painted head to toe in gold,
in himself was a work of art-
he was so brilliant to behold,
because as soon as I saw him I was instantly transported
back in time to my childhood,
and my fantasies of wanting to be a cowboy.
The Golden Gunslinger was like a living photograph
of a time of adventure and a reminder of the heroes
and out-laws that fill the stories of the Wild West
that once was in America that for so many
still holds a special place in their heart;
The Golden Gunslinger reminded me of how care-free
and amzing it is to a child, or someone who acts on and follows
their instinctual passions-
whether you are a man, or a woman, a girl, or a boy.

As time caught up with me,
even though in all the time I was sitting there looking at
the gunslinger he did not move an inch,
I realised that it was time for me to move on.
I decided to approach the gunslinger and give him a coin
from my pocket to repay him for his time,
his inspiration, his generosity, and his golden spirit,
and even as I got closer and closer
he still didn’t look up or look away from his book
and didn’t for a second flinch;
and then, as soon as my £2 coin hit the rest of the coins
in his golden pot and made a sound,
The Golden Gunslinger suddenly came alive
and he looked up at me-
he lifted his left hand to touch the rim of his Stetson,
he looked right into my eyes, and I saw him smile
without him having to move his lips at all,
and he bowed his head slightly,
and it was in that moment that I smiled too
in appreciation, and I too began to shine as the sun shone.

As I stepped back the gunslinger reverted back
to the pose in which I first saw him,
and he immediately went back to his prefered-posture
of reading his book, at-ease against the base of his tree;
while I turned to my right and continued to walk down the high-street-
I didn’t look back, but I knew and I was so glad to have met him,
to have given him my time, and for him to have given his time to me
and to everyone who saw him, because he reminded me
in lots of ways of myself, and he was obviously someone
of great patience and a deep-thinker.
I promised myself to capture this moment that would never come again
in as much detail and with as much meaning as I could,
and I also promised that I would never forget
The Golden Gunslinger.

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