A lot has been written about monotony
Here I’m only trying it from my vision
It won’t differ much from yours
But even monotony comes in different flavors
Mine is bland. Unimaginably bland.
So much, that I fear the day I spit it out,
it will leave me bitter
I make feeble attempts to break it
A lot like a fifty year old couple argue & fight
They are not trying to spice things up
Just sorting the disagreements and inconveniences that crop up, further strengthening their bond
Each one is a proven pain in the other's ***
But it is familiar, comforting pain
Losing track of the days that I lost
The days they come and go so fast
I’m preparing myself better for the days to come
‘Every new day is an opportunity lost. So you’ve got to seize every opportunity.' I was advised..
It was 00 hours when I woke up
from my untimely slumber to start
this new day on this new note
Although I’m skeptical of the meaning of new day
I don't think they meant it in the technical sense
The day they were referring to probably begins
when the sun shines so bright that it is hard
to keep your eyes closed and pretend to be asleep
In a semi awakened state,
you clasp your genitals,
then scratch them,
stroke your stiffness,
wipe the drooling mouth
or partake in other preferred activities
in any order you deem fit
and thereby amass the requisite energy
to seize the day by the *****
Me,? I’m not really a morning person
It takes a couple of hours for nausea to subdue
After I spat all the toothpaste residue
So I take this to be the start of yet another day which has begun,
and will roll,
with reasonable certainty,
just the same way as did yesterday
Or the day before
Or a day the week before
But I wasn’t here since the beginning of time
I grew from a microbe to a maniac
So I know this is just a phase that will pass
But I can’t seem to place
the beginning or end of it
Shedding hairs, bloating with worries and fat
I came to the sudden realization
that this will soon end
Whether I like it or not
Whether I force it or not
It will come to an end
Like every other thing that started
Here I am, waiting for it to unfold
Like the spectator I’ve always been,
passive with fear and with justifiable cowardice
When the days become too repetitive, you can't tell reality from a recurring dream..
