About Me
A young man awakes, takes a glare to his left and realizes that it is morning already. He cannot remember the last time he actually had to be awoken by his alarm clock, but he sets it the night before anyway. As he rises from the ashes of the night's sleep, he realizes that he had yet another dream, vivid in color yet vague in meaning. As he reaches for the lamp, to provide further light in the street lamp flavored room, he ponders the meaning of this subconscious venture. Even after thumbing through books lying on the nightstand, written by "experts" in the field, he decides interpretation this time around is a lost cause yet still thanks the spirits for the supposed message. He gains his initial balance for the day, maybe even reaching a hand out to the dresser for stability. Halfway stumbling into the bathroom, he reaches to turn the water on, only to prepare to run a sharp razor across his face, stubble is unprofessional, though on certain mornings he could really care less. Once this halfway mindless task is complete, the water for another mindless task is regulated. As the mixture of soap and water run across his skin, he thinks to himself what the day may hold, will anything more than the day before be accomplished, or the day before that? With a quick finger to the eye, he takes a break from thinking just long enough to try and wipe the soap away. The burning sensation further awakens him, as if the soap knew he needed further motivation and the eye would be a perfect target. Turn the water off, dry with a towel, brush the teeth, choose clothes, hasn't he done this before? Why yes, yes he has, the day before and the day before that. Now coming to the realization that full consciousness has arrived, he reaches for the necessities for the day that were found in the same place they were left the night before. As he heads down the hallway to the door, he might give a fond farewell to his cat lying there, sometimes without even turning a light on. The door to the world is opened, only to be shut again once outside. He inserts the key into the lock, we wouldn't want anyone to get in while we were gone now would we? I mean, could you imagine coming home and realizing that all of your factory produced, man-made, materialistic crap was gone. What a heartbreaker, somebody volunteers to take away many of the very chains that bind us, yet are kept out by lock and key by our own free will. As he descends down the stairs from his third floor apartment, he listens to each footstep, as if they are making a noise celebrating that once again they are being used for a purpose. The footsteps cease, as the door to the American made mode of transportation is opened. $310 a month he thinks, as he looks at a check engine light that has been coming on since 15,000 miles into the "life" of the debt. The engine cranks, the CD is inserted and travel begins. As he casually moves towards his daily destination, he wonders "why are people in such a hurry? I mean the very place these people are running and speeding to is the very place that 5 minutes AFTER BEING THERE THEY WILL BE COMPLAINING ABOUT WANTING TO GO BACK TO WHERE IT IS THEY JUST CAME FROM." What's the motivation for this young man? Is it the kids that he doesn't have? Is it the wife that he has never taken hand in marriage? Is it for a future that is uncertain anyway? Just questions. Yes, they are just questions alright. Justified. Is this what they call the real world? "It isn't all that bad I guess" he thinks to himself. "Slow and easy" he says. And all of this, before 6:30AM
