I am on a highly functional autopilot. So good, so realiatic you can hardly tell. Camouflaging in with the rest of the herd, I am racing through the daily shuffle.
Autopilot doesn’t care what I should do, what I want to do, only what I have to do in order to keep going. When You never actively control your own body, mind, time becomes confusing.
For some reason, it’s always Friday. Weeks start and end and flow together and months go by like hours.
At least nothing is terrible. Nothing is great either. Thank goodness everything is easy. If it wasn’t I might have already broken.
I thought sufficiency or evwn mild success would lead to an increase in happiness , but I was niave. I thought that things I was doing were the problem. Turns out is was me that was wrong. I was the problem all along.
At least I’m okay. I guess I will continue surviving. On autopilot.