And so another Monday rolls around, and with it comes the obligatory depression of spirits at the onslaught of mechanical routine. Wake up in the same bed. Roll out of bed in the same way. Stare at the same paltry, hideous wardrobe in the closet. Pick out the same frumpy, ill-fitting outfit you try to avoid. Shower with the same shampoo and soaps you've used every morning for the past ten years. Hang the towel back up the same way in the same place. Eat the same breakfast which makes you sick the same way every morning. Everything the same every day. Everyone slowly trudging through their cookie cutter lives never daring to dream bigger.
But we embrace the unformity. It is familiar. It signifies Safety and Security. Safety and Security are always above all things in importance.
But when this monotonous mete includes ever tiresome circular drudging of (doubtless ridiculous) heartache, pain, hopelessness, and despair; it is not such an easy drug to accept.
And so my cry rises ever higher again.
"Free Me. Free Me. Let me out of this prison. Fly me far, far away and leave the people and the heartache they cause me far below and behind."