You want to take walk. You've just witnessed something, seen something, heard something, listened to something that makes you want to, it doesn't matter. You just want to take a walk.
But you're appreciative of the fact that you can't. You just can't leave things as they are and go for a damn walk, can you? But isn't that wasn't you want? It's a walk. You have no idea what good it'd do to you. You don't even know if it'll do you any good. You just want to take the damn walk. You've not really been the 'take a walk' kinda person, though. A walk is something you've never sought. It's just been these last few years when you've thought that a walk could solve something. How does it, though? You live by yourself. Even if you aren't literally by yourself, you live by yourself in your head. You can stand by yourself when you will it. You can be by yourself whilst in a crowd. And yet, somehow, you think a walk would help. If being by yourself, if being indifferent to company, is a thought away, why take a walk?
Because walks are romanticised, aren't they? You feel as if a walk will most definitely solve something that, say, a session on the pot won't. A walk will help resolve matters, the most immediate matters, in the way a drink with a good friend won't. A walk is a walk for a reason, as they say. Not always.
This particular walk, though. What can you say about this particular walk that's different from all the other walks you've wanted to take? This particular walk is something special. All of them are. Not because this particular one has context, all if them do. Not because this particular one is a spur of the moment thing, all of them are. It's because this particular walk is pressing. Not all of them are. Sure, some of them are. But this one is more pressing than any other. Why should there even be a comparison between walks? Aren't walks like cups of tea, each one special and warranted irrespective of others?
You want to take a walk. Not only because sometimes you want to. Sometimes, you need to
But you're appreciative of the fact that you can't. You just can't leave things as they are and go for a damn walk, can you? But isn't that wasn't you want? It's a walk. You have no idea what good it'd do to you. You don't even know if it'll do you any good. You just want to take the damn walk. You've not really been the 'take a walk' kinda person, though. A walk is something you've never sought. It's just been these last few years when you've thought that a walk could solve something. How does it, though? You live by yourself. Even if you aren't literally by yourself, you live by yourself in your head. You can stand by yourself when you will it. You can be by yourself whilst in a crowd. And yet, somehow, you think a walk would help. If being by yourself, if being indifferent to company, is a thought away, why take a walk?
Because walks are romanticised, aren't they? You feel as if a walk will most definitely solve something that, say, a session on the pot won't. A walk will help resolve matters, the most immediate matters, in the way a drink with a good friend won't. A walk is a walk for a reason, as they say. Not always.
This particular walk, though. What can you say about this particular walk that's different from all the other walks you've wanted to take? This particular walk is something special. All of them are. Not because this particular one has context, all if them do. Not because this particular one is a spur of the moment thing, all of them are. It's because this particular walk is pressing. Not all of them are. Sure, some of them are. But this one is more pressing than any other. Why should there even be a comparison between walks? Aren't walks like cups of tea, each one special and warranted irrespective of others?
You want to take a walk. Not only because sometimes you want to. Sometimes, you need to
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