But an automated life. A boring life. Every day, you go to bed. Stare blankly, turn right, long for cuddles from a cold shoulder. Stare blankly. Turn right.
Fall asleep, eventually. It’s not good quality sleep but you’ll take what you can get.
You just barely wake up every single stupid day and drag yourself to a computer.
With just minutes to spare, slack is open and its 9:01 am. Type away, consider problems and their solutions. For hours. You feel your body withering away while you earn your “bread” on your ass. Take a break.
Listen to loud music. Eat a light lunch. Go back to work. Stand up for ten minutes every two hours so your body stays healthy. Sit up straight. Brush your teeth.
Wash and brush your hair. Stretching in the morning. Touch your toes, regret it. This is 27. My head hurts because I’m really reaching here and my back hurts because my posture isn’t that great and my smile is probably grimy but I still smile every day at everyone.
Thinking about all of those years of my beautiful, sweet, interesting life. And I’m thinking about that wonderful trait I love about myself where I do whatever I want and I have not any fear.
I think it went away. It’s a muscle I stopped flexing. And I think that is okay too, because those whims don’t need tending to. There is a line, a path, trajectory that I can see now and it’s further away but I’m having fun deciding to carve at it, taking all of my time to invest in something truly sweet.
For now, I’ll keep getting by. Maybe I’m doing the bare minimum. Maybe I’m stressing myself out. It just depends on what day you’ve asked. There’s no structure here, only barely.