In theory, I should be excited. In theory I should be angry. Hypothetically, I should sometimes be happy. These are all emotions I am led to believe are available to me as a human being
Instead, I feel what I can best describe as numb kind of resolve. A blankness. What is left but a relentless trudge through one duty after another. Each day repeating with a clockwork monotony.
Suited hate figures talking about ‘hard work.’ Drug wankers dragging their anxieties like a sack as their bubbles shrink around them. Another message. Another polyphonic blip at the till. A meal. Gone before it’s noticed.
One bad idea layered over another bad idea and repeat. Entwine them. Pull them tight. It’s a knotty situation that cannot be undone.
This is the hospital from whence you can. This is the graveyard where you will go. This is a scarred landscape. This is your designated lesiure time.
Spend it wisely.
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