Once upon a time, there was a boy named Ung.
He was a happy go-lucky little man who loved nothing more than running around aimlessly. When he did have an aim whilst running, it was to either chase after a bird, a dog or even just the clouds in the sky.
As Ung grew older, the birds, the dogs and the clouds lost their allure. However, his passion for running remained, be it in a park, along a river or even just on the sidewalk of a smog-filled road. Continue reading
I don’t believe in New Year’s resolutions.
Of course, I understand that, without this construct, gyms would go broke in no time, tobacco companies would soak in more profits and healthy-eating zealots would choke on their celery sticks.
The mythical day when all good things will start
For me, however, I simply know myself too well. Too well to be deceived into thinking that my resolve to do something will suddenly be iron-clad, just because the calendar flicks over from December to January. If there are things I should be doing but I need to draw cosmic strength from the New Year to start doing them, then I suspect they are either not particularly important, or are so important and yet so difficult (for whatever reasons) that calendar-flicking is just one of many excuses I resort to to postpone real action. Continue reading