privileged


Ah, ‘tis good to be back in my own space. To be back in quiet little England and to put pen to paper once more. The travels were fun but exhausting, they were also exercises in loneliness, longing, and despair for all of the sadness and suffering that exists in the world. A powerful city such as Washington, DC, Capital of the most powerful nation on earth, is filled with hungry homeless people.
            Madrid, Spain, is similar. Madrid also carries great emotional strife for me, the strife that stems from rejection in love. I tirelessly reach out my hand into the emptiness and feel no reciprocal touch. And now, back in England, in this quiet room, I am the forgotten man, Never the less, it is good to have peace and solitude , pens and paper, keyboards and computers. I am one of the privileged.

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