Requiem for Reality

As if it never even happened. Like never even skipped a beat. Just keeps on going you know. A Million other people on the planet, having their own problems. Dealing with their own issues. So I wake up. I rush around to stay busy, cause I don't want to think about anything. If I keep my mind working, then I can become who I should be. Right?

So I wake up, just like before. I put on my boots. I don my vest. It's all familiar. I shine my boots. Take a drink. I try not to close my eyes for long, because it seems like it's all happening again.

All I really need is...I've convinced myself it's true. The funny thing is, no matter how many times I say it, still doesn't seem true. I mean I'm no machine. Machine's run perfectly if designed perfectly. And even those, who are created by imperfect things, behave imperfectly sometimes. Still...much better and precise than I.

So I run to my education. I sit, ponder, engage, stimulate my mind. I get back in my carriage and head to my place of employment. I take a drink...again. Crawl into my 800 thread count Egyptian cotton sheets, and hope that I'm so exhausted, so utterly drained and destroyed from the day, that I can't think about anything.

The sun rises, crests, descends. The moon appears the tide comes in. Days turn to weeks, turn to months and years.

And then you become numb, you forget, like some scar you can't recall how you got. You sit straight up in bed and think....how did this happen, how did I get here? How did we? But more importantly, is....does anyone care? Do you?