Routine

Routine seems endless. The days are empty and I am struggling to maintain some level of focus. Sometimes I wish all this will come to an end, and it will eventually. Everything comes to an end. The process of ending is quite often a painful one, it is the process, which I truly hate. It perhaps needn't be a woeful exercise but I find the daily grind so monotonous that I want to throw my hands in the air and say Fuck it. I was driving home from work tonight, the traffic was crawling and I felt that this mindless journey to and fro is just simply pointless. I have no spark. It has been extinguished. I can really understand why people go mad living in this claustrophic atmosphere, absurdity is boundless. I am toing and froing, participating in a meaningless daily venture and am aware that I simply don't fit in this charade. I have all the pretense of playing some role but I am reeling on the inside, screaming for it to end. Often I simply would like for my life to end. I am confronted by my need to perform in this daily ritual, pretending that I'm interested in what I'm doing, except my head is usually a million miles away. Maybe all that is going on is that I am just going through a change right now, a metamorphosis of decline. I have no function really, no purpose. I have a job, which I do okay at for the most part and I have a handful of friends. That should be enough right? Except I still have a void within. It is this void, which seems insatiable, that is consuming me. Perhaps I expect too much from this world, this reality I find myself in. How do others bear the routine? I think I am just a spoilt brat, a whining, ego driven brat and perhaps I am.

I'm only wasting time complaining. I could be making myself useful in some way but I am choosing to whine about something, which is in my power to change. I whinge about it, instead of doing, taking some action to change the situation. I disgust myself with my pettiness. So I will just shut up!