One pilgrim casually said that it was just so wonderful to keep moving forward everyday. I felt exactly the same way but strangely, I didn't know why. It was the immediacy of this feeling which my stream of consciousness had not caught up with yet. Days later, as i sat down alone one morning having my coffee, I stared at the paper place mat in front of me. It was so empty and tempting to be filled. I took out my mechanical pencil and started writing. It became the first page of memoirs I decided to record, and it is this journal.
MOVING ON
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