Recede into the music, each stride in sync with the beat of the bass and vocals change and alter the mood. I never think when I walk. I am automatic. I walk like an automaton automatic split second corrections to simple problems. I am never free, I can’t be derailed. My feet move on their own like a pre-programmed line of command telling me to take a left, a right, a left, a right. My head bobs to the beat but my vision is so tunneled I only see if I’m about to run into something. That’s all the code will let me do. Slight adjustments, never straying from the path, like I’m on rails, and the code never fails. I don’t use this time to think. I don’t use this time at all. This time is a blur. I can’t remember it at all. Everyday is the same, day one to day three hundred sixty five. I am a slave to the routine of daily life... if you can call that life.