Every Day Of My Life

Go to my office, sit at my desk,
Predictably just like all of the rest.
I sit and I dream about far away places,
Away from the people with frowns on their faces.
All of my life is monotony
I’d go out for a walk but I know it would be
(Predictable)
Sure as the nose on my face
(Predictable)
Same for the whole human race
Once we (once we) had so many options
Once we (once we) had dignity and grace
Now we (now we) have got nothing but our own time to waste.

4 Replies to “Every Day Of My Life”

  1. Why can’t it be like never before?

    Reminds me of that uplifting David Foster Wallace quote …

    I am now 33 years old, and it feels like much time has passed and is passing faster and faster every day. Day to day I have to make all sorts of choices about what is good and important and fun, and then I have to live with the forfeiture of all the other options those choices foreclose. And I’m starting to see how as time gains momentum my choices will narrow and their foreclosures multiply exponentially until I arrive at some point on some branch of all life’s sumptuous branching complexity at which I am finally locked in and stuck on one path and time speeds me through stages of stasis and atrophy and decay until I go down for the third time, all struggle for naught, drowned by time. It is dreadful. But since it’s my own choices that’ll lock me in, it seems unavoidable–if I want to be any kind of grownup, I have to make choices and regret foreclosures and try to live with them.

  2. Oh yeah, any choice in life is a massive act of exclusion. Just how it is. I’m cool with it as long as I’m not dodging bullets or bombs. (I’m not.)

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