I focus all my will on just placing one foot in front of the other. Some far corner of my mind refuses to cooperate, instead electing to notice how difficult this task really is. I want to scream at it, shout in my mind to shut up and help me, but I don't, it would take too much effort. One foot, the other, an endless line of footprints stretch out behind me like a snaking ribbon of pain and toil. One step. My entire body shivers, and I struggle to maintain my balance. I sway like a tree under the blows of the lumberman's axe, but I do not fall. Another step forward.
How long has it been? How many footprints stretch out behind me? How many more must I lay down before I reach my destination? Another step, another footprint in the soft earth. What is my destination? I cannot remember, my mind is tired, too tired to recall. Step, and another. Or maybe it isn't, maybe I never knew where I was going. Maybe there is no destination. My feet rise and fall. If there isn't a destination, why continue, why go to such effort. If there isn't a purpose behind this drudging journey, then why make it. It takes all my will to continue stepping forward, but at the same time, I cannot stop. Like a magnet pulling a lodestone, all effort is focused, but I cannot do otherwise. My will forces me on, but I cannot will my will to cease.
Another step, and another.
My limbs ache, and my eyes droop closed. I force them open again, clawing to remain awake. I have to stay awake. Another footfall. My will is unbending, my legs move slowly, unsteadily, but unrelentingly. I cannot stop, I cannot sleep, and yet I cannot continue, I cannot fight off sleep forever.
I am a walking contradiction, I cannot stop, but I cannot reach the end, I am a weary man in an eternal journey. An eternal moment of exquisite torment without relief.
Another step, and another...
