Fifth Week – Halfway there with no end in sight

So I reckon the halfway point deserves a special post. I thought hard about what title to give this post that attempts to give an impression of the successive states of mind I went through.

Nowhere near with no end in sight
That would have been the title I would have used at the beginning of the trip. Never had I been so unsure, full of doubt and skeptical towards a project of mine. But I just gritted my teeth, and got on with it, step by step, ignoring the thousand good reasons that would make it impossible and concentrating only on putting things together. Like a puzzle I couldn’t believe would ever look like the picture on the box, but that I kept adding pieces to until I sat in my saddle and pedalled the first tentative strides into the uncertainty of the unknown.

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Somewhere with no end in sight
And so I found myself taking every day, every stop, every city, like a small step yet again. I made mistakes, I was unaware. I discovered and understood. I reflected and did better. Found a routine, a place outside of the world, parallel to it. When everybody was static yet busy I was passing. And people liked me for a small moment of incredulity, maybe even amazement. I was a forward movement, cyclic in scope, that cut through the whirlpools of life.

 

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Everywhere with no end in sight
The free-wheeling feeling that I am nowhere and everywhere at the same time.

 

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Anywhere with no end in sight
And I am immersed in this parallel path, counting to myself of ways I could have gone. I don’t sing often but I’ve got music playing in my head all day. I speak to few people but learn new ways of talking. I take what I’m not supposed to but always leave something behind

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Halfway there with no end in sight
And as I am preparing for the next step, I’m taking stock. More and more I find myself smiling to myself, incredulous.  Unable to grasp it while clinging tightly to it.

And I don’t want it to stop. I want sunrises with a horizon, not the walls and the fences.

I want endlessness, not the confinement of stasis.

I want life, not the idea of its perfection.

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Halway there and an end in sight

And at the same time I’m longing for the end. Every stretch of road is defined by its destination, which I am striving for.

Always projected forwards, towards a reason.

And so I’m yearning for the arrival while I dread it.

I’m waiting for the conclusion, and want to postpone its judgement.

I want vindication, and fear being proven right…

 

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