"I'm not a human. I'm a piece of machinery. I don't need to feel a thing. Just forge on ahead."
I think that was part of whatever mindset I was having at a point of time, that kept me going this March. Many things have occured since, many things changed. Still, I enjoy reading books that are relative to a certain extent, some still get way too close for comfort. Reading about running itself can get unbearably exhausting, perhaps that fact alone is why I seem to be taking forever to completely drink in these 173 pages, more filling than several cups of London Earl Grey. Who knows, soon enough 'Haruki Murakami Running' moments would start to co-exist alongside all of my 'Charlie from perks of being a wallflower' moments. It's enlightening, in a way, to feel slightly more coherent about my feelings towards running, after these three years :-) Ya i even inserted a smiley back there CHEERS TO coherent running

I have to stop pulling my hair out trying to keep track of my days and my activities. Time to accept the fact that not all memories are there for the taking or savouring.

Ps. Just another prisoner, just another head.