Inspired

The computer asks me the same installation question each morning. It then asks me if I'd like to restore the previous session. I want my previous session. I want yesterday to be similar to today. I want today to be predictable and surprise-less. I want to feel powerful and in control of my life. I want to find that when I ride my bike to work, the building, the people, my pen and paper are just as I left them. 

Thus, I put myself into a pretty box and when it no longer looks pretty, I find another. The new one becomes old soon enough, and so I look for yet another spark. And so the cycle is on: want predictability, bored with predictability, find a new shiny something, dull it, and wonder why I am unsatisfied.

I also have another lifelong friend. His best name is Momentum. I start out with a walk, or rather a stroll. Somehow, the wind inevitably picks up and I find myself jogging until the once enjoyable movement reaches tremendous speed outside of my control, and I keep running faster and faster, unable to stop, running from one thing to another, from one task to another, from one goal to another, barely stopping for fuel, until all I can do is express the exhaustion in an invariably loud and dramatic way.

Alas, I live in the want of stability and predictability, in the world of boredom and blindness, because my eyes are closed, because my mind is fanciful, because my head is bent down to the ground, because I am drowning in the life I have inadvertently created for myself. 

And so I see this, and I want a way out. I am not a robot, I say to myself. I am not a rat in a cage. I am a free and creative thinker. I have a functioning body. I can choose every moment to be the happiest moment of my existence. I can find form in the formless and beauty in the mundane. I can hop off this speed train to nowhere, rest if needed for as long as needed, and maybe, take that lazy, daydream-filled stroll.