When you’re sunken with the world deep into the grooves of the worn out chair. Hands limp on the desk. Slowly feeling the inevitable back pain that will someday break you. Staring into the monitor. You end up going through the motions.
Listening to beautiful music to help get you through it. The vibrations slowly crush the soul. As the day dreaming kicks in, drifting across the infinite universe, bouncing around the imagination of a happy person. Soaking in the connection to the artist. Sometimes you listen intently to understand, and then sometimes you don’t listen at all as you understand. You feel fortunate that you were born just in time to access this music, and have such a range of choice you can pick a favourite. You can listen to a million singles or albums, even better you can obsessively repeat a single song endlessly just as it consistently hits that one spot over, and over again. You’re lucky to be diving into this magnitude of choice. Something that beyond the last couple of generations, you uniquely get to have the privilege of experiencing across thousands of years of human history. You’re lucky enough to not have been sent down the coal mines as a child.
However, as I sit there I don’t feel fortunate. I feel a bit more empty than when I woke up in the morning. I struggle to not shed tears at the idea I can do something that lets me be free. Unchained from everything. Instead I hold it all up, bottled within the soul. Leaving people confused as to why I can’t get rid of this nausea. Its harder when you let it all out sometimes, and its always harder when you’re still going to be sat there afterwards. So instead you can just stare into the abyss in front of you. Motionless. Occasionally lifting those wrists to type and click away, not really understanding why you’re here. I robbed myself of a choice, I continue to rob myself of a choice, and I hope to never rob myself again. Self-subjugation to unhappiness. You’ve spiralled, and found yourself lost in the darkness. That is until you break this moment with the realisation you’ve got homemade butternut squash and carrot soup for lunch today. Sprinkled with a bit of pepper. Served with a crunchy bread generously slathered with butter. Instead you get up and take a break from it all.
I hope that artificial intelligence eventually steps up and takes this mundane life from me, and I hold the same wishful thinking for you too.
