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Roy Ofili.

I’m sitting here with my laptop in front of me and my wallet wedged in my back pocket making my backside ache. I remove the wallet and I immediately feel a lot better. I’ve been angry a lot lately, today was just one of those days. I lean forward and put my head in my hands and I close my eyes for a moment and let my mind go blank. I’m trying to listen.

They are there all right, they always have been. The issue is to pick out the voices, hear what they are saying, ignore the itching on my face and hands and concentrate. One steps forward to tell a story. She looks timid, like the emotion of sadness in the animation movie “Inside out”.

“Do you think anyone will want to listen?” She asks.

I scratch the itch on my right shoulder and nod my head.

“Okay,” she sighs. “Here goes…”