Bookmark #739

What a wonderful blue sky outside! How can one not sit and write a few words? I had little to do today, so I went outside and had breakfast with a friend, as one should on a day as beautiful as this. Now, I am back, and I am inspired. It was while we had pancakes that I confessed that I, too, am human. That the reason I have not written enough after I had written for four hundred days is simply because we often think of numbers as milestones.

However, unlike how they are on the road, reaching milestones in life rarely brings you to a new place. On the four-hundred-first day, you wake up, make your coffee, and sit in front of the desk. Nothing has changed. Something does not fit right. And then and there, the charm is gone. It is phenomenally hard to keep doing something when it leads to something. It is but the realm of impossible to do something which never leads to anything. And I think that is what happened to me. It may not be the only thing, for there is seldom only one reason for things being the way they are, but it is a reason. And now that I have confessed this, out loud, to another person, I feel like a weight has lifted off my chest. We must always strive never to believe our myths about ourselves, and even if people continually tell you how insane any of your feats are, you must always know it is you who achieved whatever you achieved, which means it is believable and possible. That is true humility, and I reckon I have learned my lesson.

Now that I have spent time analysing and lamenting, there is nothing else to do but be better. Fortunately, I have my own example to follow now and to write even half as well as I had been doing until I lost my head and put it into my arse would be an achievement. There it is; there is my resolve for the days to come. I must get to the top of the peak again. The rock has rolled to the far end of the bottom.

// if you want to support this walk to nowhere, you can pitch in here