One more robot learns to feel...
I’m sitting here quite alone in my scrubs. I’m thinking about the day I’m going to have tomorrow, if I’ll go to school or not, what I’ll wear, if I should bring an umbrella. An acute loneliness sets in. The room is still, the fan is humming, and the fluorescent lights above me are burning my eyes. I feel numb. I don’t know what I’m looking forward to anymore, only tomorrow.
I know you’re supposed to take things one day at a time, but I don’t know what I’m working towards. I’m just lost, but the problem is I don’t feel like I care. I don’t feel excitement like I used to, I don’t see things on a larger scale anymore. I hate this feeling. I hate settling, I don’t even know what I’m settling for; probably mediocrity.
I was never built that way. I was never meant to sit down and watch life pass me by. Excitement was meant to pulse through my veins, I was meant to command a stage, I was meant to make people cry, I was meant to sing my soul out… I was always bigger than my body gave me credit for.
But now I’m here, sitting in my cubicle, watching time go by… counting the hours, minutes, seconds until I get home, fall asleep in my bed, and repeat.
I’m sick of this feeling. Sick of the funk. I’m getting out of this. I think I’ll move forward. I hope to never be this way again.