Life My life is filled with 'random acts'. There are random acts of racism -- I heard an older white woman remark that a clerk in shop hadn't done her job properly because 'she had an accent'. There are random acts of kindness -- helping people with their bags and push chairs across bridges between platforms at radio stations. Random acts of love -- the unexpected kisses and kind words between lovers. Random acts of nostalgia when a smell or sounds sends me back to a moment in your childhood when everything was perfect. Random acts of sadness as I flick through my paper now in the morning. The random act of blogging in moments like this when I haven't thought about what I would write tonight and simple went with what I feel.

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