So i had a revelation on a swing today. I went for a run in Regents Park (shocking, I know!) and I came across a playground. And surprisingly enough this one didn't have a security guard in front of it requiring you to have a child with you if you're going inside.
I love swings, so naturally I decided to go on one, I mean I was by myself so who's judging? It's not like there was anyone on them. I like swings because you can really just let go. And it was on this swing that I realized swings are a metaphor of life. Or at the very least some challenge or another (for example, oh I don't know, running!)
In order to get up in the air, you need a lift. Sure, someone can push you, but when you're my age and height, you're pretty capable of doing it by yourself. The harder you push yourself off the ground, the higher you will fly. And the higher you get the easier the work is, by the time you've reached the top you don't even realize that you're working anymore even though your legs are still kicking. But be careful! If you try to swing too high you'll fall off and break your neck!
anyway, I thought that was cute or something.
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