I walk a lot. I mean, more than the normal person walks on a given weekend, especially if they have a show that they want to watch, work to get done for school or a job, or simply are too lazy to do much more than breathe in and out, lethargically and snort a couple of times when the air doesn’t go in and out right: wheeze, huuuuh-huuuh, like you’re some kind of mad cow who just had a good sprint from the whip, only, you didn’t. You’re just human, I guess.
Still, I like to think that my walking patterns are what keep me on the brink of health, per the fact that over the years, numerous times, by many doctors, that I need to lose weight. This is not only because I have asthma and all that fat pressing against my lungs will do me no good at all, but also because…fat. Not fun, nor is it pretty: have you ever got out of the shower and just traced with your eyes your stretch marks, and then you feel them: how bumpy and smooth they are,and then you just start to wonder where they came from? Time wasted pondering your fat, pudgy, lethargic, cow-like body. So, yeah, I need to lose weight, and these walks are what keep me on the edge. Now, I don’t walk just to walk: I walk because I didn’t have a car, nor a bike because the pedal fell off from my incredible girth, or something like that, and I don’t know how to fix it. For this matter, I go to stores and other people’s houses by foot, though mostly, to stores, especially since they’re all walking distance anyways.
On these walks, there is a bountiful wealth of information and idealism for me to grab from. A couple of years ago, I realized how much I hate cars, or rather, not being the one in side of it. People fly down the street, stare at you all the while, and kind of give you this scowl of discontent and elitism like they’re better than you because they walk, or because you walk, you must be some lower type of human being. The first time this all happened, I always just looked away or at the ground, but these days, I’ve learned to look right back at them and counter their thoughts: I hope you get into an accident for paying more attention to me on the sidewalk than this street full of cars. This is the idealism, almost brainwashed propaganda, crafted and distributed by the dictator that is consciousness, that you begin to teach yourself when you walk or in a situation where you are the walker. This is why not only exercise, something as minimal as walking from place to place to consume and defecate, and walking are good for the writer: you lean yourself, and you learn about the world, your perception is broadened and suddenly ideas are streaming in your head about how you can convey these idealisms and thoughts into something that is not so harsh and more entertaining…though, imagining a Grand Theft Auto like car accident can be quite grand in hindsight.
So, I’ve got some homework for you: go for a walk. A friend told me once when I said I might start running (this never happened) that don’t just run to run: run somewhere where you’re actually going to do something. In truth, really, there is actually nothing more unsatisfying for the brain to do something that has no reward. We are consumerist creatures and for this matter, we need something to consume, we need rewards for spending time and energy on something. This can be something as minimal as water, food, or cool air a the end of a workout, but in our times and the way our minds have been trained, I think you need something more: to buy something (buying those shoes you really wanted for a long time) , to receive something exciting (running to the movies to see this movie you’ve been waiting to see because it has your favorite actor), or to see someone you haven’t seen in a while, so you run all the way there because you just want to see their face. With this in mind, don’t just go for a walk for the benefit of your writing only, go for a walk to go somewhere, and alongtha t walk, that odyssey to this place, listen to music or the sound of the world, and learn about yourself and this world from the view point of someone who has always driven or been very impartial, you’ll learn a great deal about yourself and notice things you always missed while driving: “I didn’t know they got a new fence; I didn’t know they went fishing; I didn’t know she has a Porsche, I wonder how much this bitch makes.” Go for a walk this week or this weekend.