walk

Walk. When I was much younger, I always found walking away as my resort to things I disagreed with.  I remember walking away from meetings, my class, a group of friends, or even when I was at my workplace.  I walk away because I am fed up. I walk away because I cannot bear what I hear, feel, and see. That was immaturity. 

Walk. I used to walk when I was living far away from the main road.  I lived at 14th Street, and to avail of any public transportation, one needed to walk up to 1st Street to find a tuk tuk, a cab, or a motorcycle taxi.  There were times that I was picked up by passing cars, strangers but neighbours in the housing estate I lived. I also remember when my motorcycle died out because of the flood, and I had to push and walk from 3rd Street to my house. That was a great story. 

Walk. During late afternoons, I would put on my walking shoes and briskly walk along the neighbourhood while listening to some music.  I would even reach fr away places and decide to return when I regain my strength. I walk as an exercise as I am not into gyms or Zumba dancing. I enjoyed it for a while until I became stagnant with my physical health. That is a pity.

Walk. At this time, many things were bothering me, and all I could think of is to walk away.  My walking will be a means of escape as I am not feeling safe and while I think of how to make this great escape, I will pray fervently for guidance and light. Though not the time to really walk away because of my responsibilities, there are better times to fly.  Let this walk be done without traces. That is going to be a feat.

Walk when needed.  Walk when given no choice.  Walk when things are not safe.

Walk when one is feeling stagnant. Walk when no one cares anymore.  Walk, walk, walk... when the last thing you hold is your hope.