Railway Tracks.

Finding myself.

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4. Accepting.

I turn around. I start heading back along the dismantled track. It's ironic really, how venturing down something so physically broken can help me mentally piece myself together. 

I assume it will take me another three hours or so to get home, but the track runs straight to the end of my road, so there's no way I can get lost. What felt like a lonely, cold, sombre journey...now feels like a freeing, comforting path, leading the new me back to a society I am now ready to face. 

I feel happier now, contented, repaired. 

I return home, with a rare smile upon my face, feeling content with myself for the first time in forever. I rip down the posters of popular bands and film stars I had on my wall to satisfy the ever-still society, and I throw a bundle of clothes I bought to 'fit in', out of my window into the compost heap in the garden below.

Today marks the start of a new me. Accepted by me, and even if it stay like that for some time - forever even - at least I know who 'me' is. Unlike those mass-produced clones making up the shattered dream we call society.

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