The collectives morning

Every day is a bore. Full of chores and purposelessness. I wake up recounting dark moments as I force my heavy body out of my bed to do task I couldn't care less to do. As we all seem to do.

I put on clothes to let the public know who I am. Or at least who I have to be, to them. Colloquially known as a uniform. Work clothes. Once they're on I head to the kitchen to sustain myself with something before forcing myself to travel to that place I have no desire to be at.

Coffee. It's bitter but I'm It's dependent. It's fuel. Not too different from all the other chores... another task, more work. There's certainly no time to drink it at home at my own since I need to make it to that place I have to go to to support my existence. The existence I spend wasted at said place. I quickly grab whatever other bite I can tolerate and eat during my commute.

Then im on my way, navigating the traffic and clumsy mistakes of other drivers while doing my best to avoid making my own. Hoping I just make it to that place I hate in one piece.

Then I'm there. And so are you.