I'm reposting some of my old blog material,
mostly to get it all in one place again.
This was originally posted on My Space on May 9, 2008.
One day he woke up and decided to run. No particular reason. He had never done it before. But it seemed like the thing to do. So he ran.
It wasn't particularly satisfying, it was actually a little painful. But something inside him said he should do it. So he continued to run. He ran every day.
His family and friends thought this odd. They questioned him. 'Why do you run? You never ran before.'
He had no answer. He had no idea why he did it. He just knew he needed to do it.
It bothered them that he ran. It bothered them that he had no reason for running. They told him, 'You should stop.' But he didn't. He couldn't.
They needed a reason for his running. Since he would not, or could not give them one, they made one up for him. 'He must be crazy.'
Now they had a reason for his running. It wasn't his reason for running. He didn't have one. But it didn't matter. It was a reason. They left him alone and let him run.
One day he woke up and decided he no longer wanted to run. So he didn't.
His family and friends thought this odd. They asked him, 'Why did you stop running? You always run.'
He had no answer...
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