The Journal #13: Freedom

Have you ever seen the donkey and the carrot? It’s an age-old idea. Keep showing the donkey a dangling carrot, and he keeps moving. That’s what we do to ourselves when we keep mythologising our lives. Our imaginary identities, the ones after we complete the illusory quest, is the carrot. We are the donkeys. No one knows who’s sitting on us. Perhaps, those who came before us. Maybe, those around us. Maybe us, ourselves. It doesn’t matter because the donkey is tired. The donkey wants to rest. There’s so much weight on him, and yet, the carrot. Oh, the carrot. The donkey keeps moving.

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The Journal #8

It is the evening of yet another Sunday, and it is now that I finally sat down and took a breath. The errands are done — not all of them, just the urgent ones. The courses are done — not all of them, just the urgent ones. You get the idea.

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The Journal #7

There’s a train track roughly a kilometre from my new place. It’s close enough for it to be downright annoying. It was exactly that when I first got here. That was roughly three weeks ago. It has come to my realisation that the train doesn’t bother me anymore. I mean, it does get me riled up every time I hear that honking and rattling approaching from far away but when compared to how it was when I first got here, I think, I’ve stopped noticing the train approaching.

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The Journal #5

Winter has settled in, and it is getting harder to get out of the bed in the morning. I guess that could explain why the morning workouts are marked “done” at ten in the morning instead of eight lately. I think it is fine as long as it’s getting done.

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