Cold mornings, cold days, cold weather, cold experience, morning walk, warm brick, doing stuff, meeting stuff, needing stuff, stuffing stuff, things and so on and so forth and tearing off at a speed more acceptable than slow.
The land stretches forward as the hall of the road that I walk down presents itself in an untimely manner.
There are ways around but forward appears to be the least tedious in this situation.
That is to say, that it is much easier than the other options that present themselves to me.
I know that there will be one that I take, but perhaps at another time as the things do not do the things, there may be multiple other options in which I can choose from and more than one in which I can take, assuming that this is indeed the case that is presented to me and not actually the case that is not presented to me.
There are choices to choose and decisions to decide, but for now the stretch is the way to go. The only way is forward and the embrace that that will lead to is something familiar, yet far away from what can truly be told in this given moment of history.
I do need to consider the fact that so long as I stay warm on this walk of mine, that I will be able to remain warm, but this of course requires layers that I need to carry and with the excess weight and baggage on my being I will surely be slowed to a speed slower than I had originally anticipated, so I need to think carefully about how I am going to proceed toward the other side of the day, if indeed this stretch of road of which I am walking along the side of is going to lead to such a thing.
I do not know. I know not what it is that lies ahead of me in this very moment of time, but I do know that if I taker one step at a time, eventually I will be at home staying warm and possibly drinking some orange juice and therefore I will be refreshed in some form of refreshing manner.
That is what I need to believe in order to achieve some sort of goal.
This is of course assuming that there is a target that needs to be reached in order for all of this to tie itself into a neat little bow and then be some sort of self-contained passage.
Perhaps the walk shall lead to all the buildings leaning down to look at the tiny, insignificant being that is walking along. They will laugh in their steel-grinding way and it will be as comfortable as necessary.
I will merely keep on walking into the asphalt desert of which I am trying to seek in order to find the experiences that lead us all to realisations about our selves, but that may occur later.
The time it took to write five-hundred words: 05:53:75
Venturing back into the fictional, although there is a little reality in this one.
A little speedier once more.
Written in Redfern.