Circular, repetitive and vicious patterns dominate the bad days. From tendencies to succumb to compulsions, to give in to the constant badgering of old habits, to let the waves of un-productiveness inundate your day, how does one emerge ?
Do you fight with a quick walk in the cold night air, as the dogs sit in judgement by the sidewalk? Do you let loose by bingeing nonsense TV, growing older in the light of the screens? Do you call up a friend, interrupting their family dinner (cousin got engaged!) ? Do you google ? (ew, but do you?) Do you, like me, curl up under the sheets and breathe till exhaustion takes over?
Patterns, the boring old tirade of human weakenesses. They get you everytime. Slow, assuring, warm like a childhood memory, beckoning, how does one not fall into the comforting arms of patterns? At least, that is my justification for having thrown another day into the bin, pristine yet crumpled. What to do? As good as new, but past expiry.
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