Boi Growing Up

The week starts. The morning starts. I wake up, get dressed, make my way out the door to the place that allows me to live. The place that allows me to manifest this lifestyle. The place that takes away the very energy I need to live, while giving me the means to live. Putting me in the company of, what undoubtedly seems to be, the very future ahead of me. Breakfast time comes and goes. Lunchtime comes and goes. It approaches the rush hour. My labor is no longer required. I am released from the slavery born of my own volition.

Live a day in my life.

The week has begun. The evening starts. I have one of two paths before me and then another choice of two paths depending upon which way I chose. Do I go home? To fully embrace the congestion of the trains and buses. To be a part of the masses of people that define NYC’s rush hour. As if everyone knows about some strange free gift at the end of the trip, but I go along only to split off right before the end so I can go home, a place I don’t really want to be. Which is occupied by a person I really don’t want to see. But that place I don’t really want to be contains the place I never want to leave. An oasis surrounded by a ring of fire. It’s hard for me to penetrate through without getting burned, but it holds a pathway to my friends, my fun, my life’s power source. It’s hard for me to penetrate through, but somehow that person I really don’t want to see glides through the fire as if they were made of it. Their only purpose is to set ablaze my oasis.

Live a day in my life.

Or do I choose not to go home after self-slavery? I instead encounter my friends on the outside. To discuss happenings, and ponder life. We become philosophical with our experience. Geniuses with our knowledge. Together we amass our riches provided to us by our slave masters and become millionaires able to indulge in whatever form of “fun” we crave. Then regret how we squandered our own individual power in such a trivial way. Only to decide “it was worth it.”

Live a day in my life.

Go to sleep. The light of the sun is long gone. I am all out of energy whether I have been socializing through the electrical signals, dealing with the intruder made of fire, or out roaming the city with my partner for that temporary time span. I am a robot and I need my charging base. Lay me down to plug me in and refill my battery to power through another day. Another day of the same procedure. Another day to consider the same choices. To avoid or embrace the same encounters. To complete my tasks or be scolded, which I always complete my tasks. Be a philosopher in the streets or fight fire at home. Always ending with slumber. My charger that’s adjacent to the charger to all my accessories that aid in making me a multipurpose tool.

Overnight, reset occurs. The week has started, but this night ends.

Live a day in my life.