this is where my brain takes a dump

i wonder how many times have i pushed down a key to make a letter appear on the screen.
how many clicks and how many minutes have i spent doing things of such little importance rather than living outside in the fresh air and actually feel alive. how many days have gone by like this.
it feels unfair.

that's when you realise how ill you've actually been and currently seem to still be.

how many times. this keyboard must be more sturdy than me, i reckon.
thank god, or else i'd not only be unemployed, but completely stripped of something to call a life.

same thing, day out day in, same colors, same sun, same sky and the same cars passing by.
routines are a vital part of life, even when your profession is trying to escape from them.

in order to realise how ill i actually am, i need to taste what being healthy is like.
there's no taste left in my pallet, so i must recall memories and the only memories i can recall is great moments from simpsons, like this:
bart walks out into the yard. homer is doing his usual menace to his neighbor and bart asks "do you even have a job anymore?" to which homer replies quite elegantly "well duh, i think it's pretty obvious that i don't"
as we all know, memories fade and get manipulated so easily (if you didn't know this, it's about time you wake up to this icy cold fact), so there's not much help in that, at all.
i usually just end up with the wrong perspective on things - either do it WELL or don't.
perfection must be achieved.

so i just don't.