Through the daily grind here I am, minced (me)at:
- Fifty five percent monotonous shadow of a moving soul, on auto-pilot and caught in a well-designed hamster wheel that is fully functional, like clockwork
- Twenty five percent educated consumer, insatiable bargain hunting vegan, ever-evolving being caught in a never-ending loop of self-fulfilling prophecies and ego-colliding encounters
- Five percent shattered creativity, hopes and dreams, the cohesive mass of which I keep safe under the carpet of daily small talks, self-regulation techniques and wealth-management strategies
- Half a percent chronic melancholia and half a percent sheer exuberance, which make up a whole percent of unhinged
- An inexact percentage of loves lost and longed for, probably about four percent, the bitter taste of those are semi-washed away by single malt whiskey which forms another two percent in its own right
- Three percent bottled up, unexpressed opinions, suffocated road rage, internalised feelings of inadequacy and guilt, body-image issues, what ifs, should haves, never have I evers, maybe in the futures and down the tracks aaaaaaaaaand therapy bills
- Trauma two percent; and
- Three percent memories