I'm gliding through the crystal blue sky with the birds guiding me home. I have no home. You see, I travel around the world looking for a place to call my own, but however how hard I try I can never seem to stay in one place.
The birds are my friends, well the closest I've ever had to friends. I'm not even sure if I know what friendship is, or what it means. They're just like me though, I mean they have to be my friends if they are just like me, right? Anyway, they sore through the blue right beside me to keep me company and share me their tales from around the world and I always return the favour. They travel around the world, just like me trying to find a place that we can settle down together and talk quietly about our most amazing journeys.
Right about now I am in Asia observing the large airport surrounding a large piece of land flattened out for the build. But suddenly my feet get swept up off the hard gravel and my tears of sadness float away into nothing. My rusty engine is old and soar and it pains me when I fly through what seems like my home, the sky itself. Now I have realised that the greatest journey has not yet come upon me as I let go of my grip of the sky as I fall down into the deep blue sea leaving a large splash behind me.
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