Of exhaustive insistence

No wonder it’s said physical activity prevents depression. Getting your body moving and interacting with the world cleans the mind. Get yourself scratching in it, bumping in it, holding in it. Sweat, bleed, ache. Get yourself the life your body demands.

When it comes to a moment I’m already tremendously exhausted, it’s the time when the Axiom of Exhaustion can be triggered. Even if forcing the exhausted mind onwards doesn’t feel as wise, it’s when I’ve been working relentlessly and I am still going on, despite the complaints of my body wanting the sleep, that I feel I am finally doing my best.

It’s the exhaustion that comes from going through the month dealing with the never-ending accumulation of mundane chores, or repetitive routines. It’s the combined strength from Zhu Rong and Hephaestus that make me take one more step and, against the odds, increasingly encouraged, as I keep Procrastinator humiliated.

That’s the joy of life, to exceed your own limits. It’s that pleasure of the exhausted trying to see how far into the dawn you can stay awake, or how long you can hold such an unbearable weight. The weariness of the muscles and the bleeding wounds of your skin are the feelings that maintain life present.