routine

as the alarm rang right at 7am in the cold morning, he stirred and cuddled even deeper into the comforting comforters. 10 minutes passed by before he mentally forced himself to crawl out of the bed. fatigue coupled with lack of sleep caused him to sway sideways as he walked out of the room into the bathroom. grouchily, he tried to turn the shower tap towards the hot water direction.

cold.

ice cold.

cursing, he took the quickest shower. shivering, he jumped out of the bath. acquiescent, he grabbed the towel and dried up. in an automobile, he is transported to a place where he would earn green-colored notes so that he can obtain food with it. for without sustenance, he would not be able to continue waking up at 7am the next morning.

at this place he calls office, he inadvertently causes the death of 3.141592 trees on average every day. a lumber mill would be a more appropriate term for this "office". throughout the day, he would be thinking about the end of the day and what he would do at night. throughout the week, he would be thinking about the weekend and what he would do on saturday. the most interesting time of the day is at mid day where the mere thought of lunch and food causes endorphins to be excreted in his dulled brain at a phenomenal rate. as he gorged on his lunch, he realizes how satisfied he becomes, the most satisfied in the entire day. a hungry man is an angry man while a sated stomach is a happy stomach (and bloated, of course) after all.

after 9 hours of sitting and rotting in a room filled with controlled air and temperature and the occasional coughs or sneezes, the man gets into his ride to return home. unlike lunch, dinner is a headache because he does not know how to cook nor does he want to cook because it wastes what precious time he has left before he goes to slumber land. on the other hand, to dine outside costs him the precious green-colored notes and time, both of which he cannot afford. he would then read a little and surf the internet as if the internet has waves to be surfed upon. at the end of the day, he closes both his eyes and goes off to deep deep slumber only to be waken up again by the dreaded piercing alarm from his mobile phone.

he is a mindless drone.

he is me.