Somewhere between scurry and stillness is a person proceeding without permission at a pace immeasurable, not willing to hurry. And as time drifts, the weariness of task undone wear on the mind making the stroll less negotiable. That in between space is where life is enjoyable-stroll. Before the ink dried on the scroll the sudden hit from behind followed by a “hurry up” is shouted by the masses. The discomfort of feeling like everyone around you is picking tulips when your success is still miles away and you’re on a treadmill, has become tangible. Strolling is not optional for the ambitious; however, I unselfishly celebrate those that have arrived at such a pace deserved.



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