17/09/2025 - Part of my pride is tied to my intellect.

I’m tired, holding on for dear life at this point. Another 22 km today and I don’t even know how I keep doing it. The days start blending into one another, which I know is part of the Camino, but still, fuck, it’s hard. And at the same time I don’t want these pages to become just a list of complaints, because there’s so much greatness too. I catch myself, often alone, smiling at the smallest things, the quiet reality I get to experience. But it usually comes hand in hand with exhaustion, with heaviness in my body that makes everything feel twice as much.

Right now the only thing I want is to rest, to collapse into sleep or maybe watch the last episode of The Summer I Turned Pretty. But here I am, writing again, because I committed. To this book, to my blog, to this little project that is really just me creating a reality out of what I love. And when I look around at the albergue, at the volunteers, at most of the other pilgrims, I realize that I have nothing to complain about. I have an online job that lets me travel, explore, discover myself, and I choose to write because somewhere deep down I know it’s my calling.

No one forced me to do this, every single thing in my life I chose. I’ve always believed that if I want a reality that excites me, I have to make it happen myself. It won’t just fall into my lap. And yet, today I saw a reel of this guy repeating a mantra, "show me how easy it can be". It stuck with me, because it goes against what most of us are taught, that we have to suffer, prove ourselves through effort, grind, and only then we “deserve.” My hard work isn’t in fields or in an office, but it still feels like it, because I keep choosing to dive deep into myself, to seek discomfort through experiences, to collect in the aim of sharing it. Believe it or not, it's definitely not easy.

Sometimes I wonder what if I just stopped, what if I stopped doing any inner work at all, wouldn’t it be easier? But then I know the truth, I’d be bored. If I can’t go within, explore, learn, and create from that space, then what am I even doing here? For a long time, I wasn’t fully committed to life anyway. Death always seemed a little more appealing than being “trapped” here. Going within gave me meaning, it gave me purpose.

But there's a part of me who still think, what if that’s an illusion too, what if life is only meant to be lived, not understood? It sounds beautiful, almost like a relief. And yet, every time I have tried to just live, I had find myself triggered, reacting in ways I didn’t understand. My body would respond before my mind could explain, and so I’d dig back, find the root, face the why, and that always gave me peace. It worked. It rewired me. It also turned me into a walking library of information, of insights and realizations stacked on shelves inside me.

Calypso calls me the human GPT, and honestly, she’s not wrong. I know part of my pride is tied to my intellect, to my ability to process and understand. But sometimes I just want to let it go. I want to stop analyzing everything, stop needing to understand, and just live. How do I reprogram something that feels so embedded in who I am? And here I am again, asking the why, caught in the same loop. What if it really could be as easy as deciding to stop?

That’s what I want now, to stop thinking so much, stop controlling everything inside and out. The Camino shows me how much of myself is swallowed by analysis. I don’t even notice how much energy it drains from me until I feel completely emptied. I want that energy back. I want to use it for creation, for wonder, for freedom. Not just the external kind, I already live freer than most people ever will, but the inner freedom of not being chained to my own mind.

I’ve realized a few years back that I’m not my thoughts. I’m the observer sitting behind them, watching. And from that seat the rules are easier. I want it, I become it. That’s it. Merci, au revoir.

As for the day itself, it was good. I met Olly this morning leaving the hostel, twenty-one, Australian, such a beautiful soul. We walked and talked for over an hour. Later I found Nelly again, the French woman, and we finished together. She struggled with her knee, and today I had the emotional space to hold her through her pain, so I slowed down. Distracted her with my own stories, and motivated her to keep on pushing. I could have arrived way faster, but I wanted to help her because I could. And my body held up surprisingly well. Sometimes I wonder at the way it heals itself overnight.

The afternoon I spent mostly in bed, finishing work for my dad, working for Robert too, doing my own projects, and now this. I also booked myself an apartment in Burgos for two nights on Friday, and honestly, I’m as excited as if it were my birthday. Food today was terrible again, meatballs in some weird soup, and lunch wasn’t much better. I feel like I’ve been eating badly every day, but I don’t even have the energy left to dress that truth up either.

And now, enough. I’m going to sleep before I lose myself completely in circles. Hold on, captain, I feel a little crazy tonight, but maybe that’s just the Camino working on me.

With love, Loune.