Whilst planning dinner

At the ripe old age of twenty-two, I feel as if the world is becoming – constrictive; it’s trying to submerge me in complacency. Admittedly, there are praises to be sung for settling, packing up after a day’s work and deciding to smirk and sigh – rather than laugh and wail – through life.

But yesterday evening, stuffed in the vestibule of a train with barely enough room to expand my lungs, surrounded by dozens of sullen faces on their home commutes, I spied myself thinking about, planning… my dinner.

How dull, right? How desperately dull.

And in a flash, I began to worry that I’m being trapped, began to wonder how many others feel that same fear. In an increasingly frightened world where landing any job – let alone a cushy office gig where the most anybody asks of your mind is to colour-code a report – is seen as a requirement of a ‘successful’ life, how many others must feel their eyeballs oozing in their skulls with the boredom of it all?

I’ve become distracted, but only because even now, as I write, I’m sat in an office haunted by only the wisps of forgotten ambitions, where a five-minute task must be stretched on the rack for hours, lest the spectre of inactivity should slide into your head, fumble with your thoughts and leave you, brainless and dead to the world.

I’ve become verbose, strayed off the path. But isn’t that a proof of my sad position? Anyway, all I really mean to say is that perhaps the most worrying repercussion of today’s mad world is that many of us feel we must cling to whatever we can grab, and this smothers our growth. I’m not speaking about material goals; I mean the mind. We can’t allow complacency to shrink our thoughts, our drives – there’s just no excuse for it.



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