The Hare

I saw a hare today.

Hares always have such a wild look in their eyes, as though they've just seen something which cannot be unseen; a feeling I can relate to all too well.

You know, they're solitary animals. The hare lives his whole life alone. Can you imagine what that's like? A whole lifetime of solitude? Your entire existence spent without anyone? 

I can.

I think that's why they run all the time. Because running is truly the only thing that can be done when you have no one, have nothing. All that you can do is keep on moving. Keep on keeping on. It's when you take a moment to stop and think - really, properly think - that you realise you don't actually have any reason to keep on going. So you don't keep on going.

That's why the hare runs. Because if you stop running, even for a second, it dawns on you that it was never actually for anything. You never actually meant anything.

And so, like the hare and his wild, unblinking eyes, I too, will continue running.

And, like the hare and his ever-moving feet, I cannot stop.