From The Road
Letters To
The Horizon
Not travel logs. A collection of places, thoughts and fragments gathered while walking toward somewhere that keeps moving.
The first time I paused
I set out on Thursday. Since then I've camped twice, both nights in farms funny enough. Then I spent a night in a Premier Inn. Tonight I walked six miles from the hotel before stopping to camp. It rained most of the day. Strong winds too. I wanted to push further, but I know when to pick my battles. The man running the campsite started asking questions. I explained what I was doing and he said it wasn't right for me to stay outside tonight. He offered me one of his caravans at no extra cost. I'm grateful for that. Little moments like this remind me that God provides in ways you don't expect. I haven't prayed in two days and I feel bad about that. Yesterday I had no excuse. Today felt more complicated. Maybe that's something I need to think about properly. What I've learnt so far: Keeping fingers and toes dry and warm comes before everything. Next town: sleeping clothes, extra socks, extra boxers reserved for camp. So far I've experienced a lot in only a few days. Conditions are getting worse. The wind tonight is roaring. I brought everything into the caravan except the tent. I genuinely don't know if it'll still be there in the morning. I already can't find one pair of socks. I think I left them in the tent to dry. I think the next 2 to 4 weeks are going to be difficult. Not the walking surprisingly. Walking is manageable. The challenge comes afterwards. Can you dry off? Can you get warm? Have you eaten enough? That feels like the real game. I think my setup tonight would've worked. But I'm grateful for warmth. I'm not against comfort. I'll sacrifice it where necessary, but I don't reject it. Had I left on the original date I'd probably be nearing France by now and missing some of this weather. Still. Everything happens for a reason. Maybe I'm only writing because I don't have signal. I can't call anyone. I can't post. I can barely edit. So here I am. Earlier today my feet were soaked. I was stuffing socks between layers of clothing trying to dry them with body heat. This is real. And strangely, I love it. Someone nearly hit me racing past earlier. That would've been a ridiculous way for this to end. But God protected me. Maybe someone's praying for me. I haven't prayed enough myself. May God forgive me. May He forgive those who pray for me. May He guide us and give us strength to live our own legends. Ameen.
The Launch Script
The journey is soon to begin, the pursuit of experience is what drives me, to grow, I have cameras, drones, phones, tents, I will be walking from my current residence in the UK, Manchester. Finally leaving the environment i find so difficult to grow in, To seek out alternative pastures. To get to know the world, and myself. Will keep updated on how it goes. For now I have kept myself busy with sorting out and finalizing gear, packing and documentation.
The Glint In A Child's Eye
I stopped rolling in bed, My eye's have gone dry, what i know of this world, I can swear it's not nice, yet we put on our masks, we wear our disguise, but how many of us are holding like cracked glass, even hoping to cry, I can't speak for you, but i'll speak for my guy, the younger me i once was, this would of tore him inside, what he know of the world, how he thought it so kind, how he'd wave at the bus driver, as he'd go by, as he'd smile ear to ear, rain or shine, how he'd look in the world, with that glint in his eye, a sparkle towards life, long before he saw through the lies
The Emotional Pendulum
My feet are on the ground, Yet I know not where I am, I open my eyes, I see all around me, Yet the world remains unseen, The emotional pendulum swings, Yet I feel none of it, Here I am, Surrounded by people, Family and friends, And still alone I sit here... To be human isn’t to obtain all, It’s to cherish all I have. This moment here, This feeling of miss, This too has importance, For how can you appreciate that which makes no difference to you. Suffer my friend, Suffer in silence, Do not moan to the world, Greet it with a smile, For your destiny is inevitable, The clock shall turn
Tesco Diamonds
We spend so much time trying to fit our value into systems that aren't built to measure us. We scale down our ambitions, mute our thoughts, and wonder why we feel empty. But you have to understand the layout of the marketplace. Just because Tesco does not accept diamonds does not mean that the diamond is worthless.
The Shadow in the Twilight
I questioned my own shadow in the twilight, "Who am I?" The silence answered: You are a garment woven for the world's gaze, a mirror reflecting the faces of those who look upon you. The soul has its seasons, as the earth knows its time of abundance as well as its hours of thirst. A man am I, that is the fullness of my knowing. I bask in golden memories as though they were the sun, and as the great winter demands for others, I shiver as my spirit snows. Lest you admonish the frost within your own chest, the lion rests beneath the ice, and if not for roots stretching towards the unknown, come spring no branch would have fruit to bear. How often I linger in the sanctuaries of my bed, wishing the morning would pass over. Yet the world calls, I must risk to put on the mask of my labor. Looking into the mirror lamenting the weight of the disguise. Forgetting we were once small, with eyes wise and unclouded, looking upon the labyrinth of existence with wonder. A time before the dust of the marketplace replaced our vision. For life is a maze without walls, and its tragedies can no longer surprise the watchful heart. Yet, remember the dawn of your creation. When the Divine lifted you and whispered into the chambers of your soul: I believe in thee. In that single breath, you were given the clearance to rise. Not to accumulate the passing treasure of mortals, but to find a spirit of absolute ease. A peace so deep that it remains undisturbed as the mountains split and the skies roar. You yearn for the quiet haven, yet look upon the earth and see a magnificent, terrible battleground. See that life is a loom where the beast and the saint are woven from the same thread. We conquer with the mind, dominate by the arm, and offer ourselves as sacrifice or demand the sacrifice of another. Knowing not that he who slays is brother to the slain, and the conqueror submits to the same dust as the conquered. As the night deepens, the stars demand stillness. Let the world call your name; you must rest, sleep. For the morrow awaits you, unknown to you your path is decided. Rise, your destiny anticipates your arrival.
Life Before the Walk
The morning I decided to live, I had done nothing to deserve it. I had gone to sleep the night before having made my peace. I woke up confused. Looked at the bottle. Natural. I have always found that funny: the universe declining my resignation on a technicality. In the silence of that morning, I made a deal with myself. If I have one life and I was willing to throw it away, then I owe it something. I owe it a real attempt. That was the first decision. Everything since has been a consequence of it. I was 125 kilograms, directionless, and so deep in my own fog I could barely think. I left Manchester for university in Swansea just to escape. For the first time, I was genuinely alone. Everything fell to me: money, food, survival. Mine to figure out or fail at. The weight of it caught me on an ordinary Tuesday. Walking into a lecture, something rose up I couldn't name and couldn't stop. I turned around, took the bus home, held myself together until I was through the door, then cried into my pillow until I slept. I woke up the next morning and did the only thing available: picked up the pieces. Got a move on. Over the years that followed, I tried to build an armor from the outside in. I became obsessed with optimization. I hunted down mentors in books, buried myself in complex code, and fought the iron until my physical frame changed. I chased the tokens of success because I thought they would protect me from that room in Swansea. I got the computer science degree, the visible markers of discipline, and finally, an offer from one of the largest financial institutions in the world. I thought I had won. The apartment in Manchester city centre was everything I had worked for, and it felt like absolutely nothing. Full fridge, any gym, the title, the salary. And yet I was miserably numb with no explanation. My friends had scattered. The people around me knew who I had been, but I had stopped being that person and hadn't told them. I stopped caring about the corporate machine. Boxing, books, internal survival. Those were the only things that felt real. I became intolerant of comfort in others, and they became intolerant of me. My work relationships fell first. My output fell next. Before I could leave on my own terms, I was handed a redundancy letter. It wasn't the leaving that broke me. It was that it wasn't mine to decide. I spent the following year throwing ideas at the wall, watching nothing stick. Another breakup added to the list of unprocessed. I was stuck in my room, looking at plans I had written twelve months before that hadn't moved an inch. I thought: if it’s in my head, it’s there for a reason. And if anyone is going to save me, it has to be me. I sold what I owned, gathered what money I could, and headed for the door. The last book I finished before leaving was Broken Wings by Kahlil Gibran. I wondered about my own, whether I had let them be clipped, or whether walking out that door was the only way to find out if I could still fly. Today I write from Istanbul. 220 days on the asphalt. Broke in my pocket, rich in mind and heart. I have met more people from more places than most will in a lifetime. I have felt my life in jeopardy often enough that the superficial noise has finally burned away. Something has clarified: I have gone from the person who didn't want to live to the person who wants nothing more than to. Will I make it to Kenya? I couldn't tell you. Do I have to? No. Kenya is just a waypoint, somewhere to walk toward while I work out the rest of this existence. The road is waiting. Türkiye is waiting, forty-five degree summers await me. I know my way. And that's all that keeps one foot following the other. I have intentionally backdated this further than it would be, I do not want this to be the first piece read. A reader must find this. Not stumble upon it.
The Flower
I’m listening to Shiloh, I’m whole, I’m in love, I think of her in my prayers, I had no say in my ardor for her. As though her name was inscribed unto each chamber of my heart. Like a flower in a garden, the garden never asked for it. Still this flower I shall not pluck as it brings beauty to a garden that was otherwise plain.
The proof of concept
Aha, I'm 27. I'm on a train, on a small journey. I woke today, Submitted myself before the lord and began to think of how I should spend this day. I yearned for connection, Not to a body, To my own being. Thus a ticket was bought and travel began, To a land where the earth meets a body of water. One where the air carries the scent of the earth. I sit aboard this travelling box, accompanied by many others, carrying with them their own wants, stories, and personal legends. The same true is when I take steps towards my personal legend, In my case it is stepping away from that which I have permitted to shackle me, The noise of the city, The lack of nature, The lack of harmony, Step outside and I feel as though a prisoner has been released, Not concerned with how long my freedom lasts, Knowing only to cherish the time ahead, and to return with a greater energy, A recalibrated mind, and a vision for a future unencumbered by shackles.
The Dickens Chain
"Imagine one selected day struck out of it, and think how different its course would have been. Pause you who read this, and think for a moment of the long chain of iron or gold, of thorns or flowers, that would never have bound you, but for the formation of the first link on one memorable day" Dickens : Great expectations I've been pretty stoic about life but for one, put the one to the side. I look at it all, the pain and fear of everyday that could have been different... I am where i am supposed to be. My mind has learnt to become calm... Like with all letting go of expectation, hope and happiness as well as their negative counter parts allows me to be present in the moment of what is. I spent forever diagnosing my mind looking for a cure, an answer and always i feel as though i come to the same conclusion. The answer is already within. I am exactly who i was supposed to be... My soul purpose is to live in a way congruent with my being, in trusting that my being is of good character, a laboring soul, a virtuous heart, a kind nature. There is nothing to gain from further prognosis, by just living as who i am. That will be enough... Out of love for myself. Life has become so simple ever since.