My life has been rather boring lately. And I’m not exaggerating, my life is all about viscera and blood vessels, bacterial infections and hormones. As much as it sounds like glitz and glamour, well, it’s not. In fact, my life has taken such a wind down the path to absolute monotony that even my written thoughts have been about the lives of others, at least in a few cases.
In movies, they often roll a montage of the lead character at work. In such a scene, the character’s day to day existence is oft summed up simply by a repetitive action, and usually not the type of action that’s, to put it plainly, full of action. My life has started to play in my mind like one of these montages. It’s all just a repeat of the same few things over and over again, interspersed now and again with a splash of something ever so slightly psychedelic.
By psychedelic I don’t necessarily mean filled with wonderfully enchanting drugs, but rather more colourful and less ‘tired’. I feel old way beyond my years when I say this, but I really live for these in between moments. These little escapes from the ever present anticlimax that is normal life. I sound depressed, I know. I’m not though. I’m just ever so slightly cynical and ready to press the snooze button on what is already a snooze fest.
I’m going to go take a nap now, I mean snoozing really can become a lifestyle.