Roboticize

I have spent so much time, years in fact, thinking about making changes that all I am capable now is thinking. I have indulged myself in the dark for so long that I have grown accustomed to it. I have spent too much time in escapism that it's all I need to escape from.

I predicted, no, I hoped, that my new pattern of everyday life would give me a good whip on the butt and drive me forth. It's ungrateful to say that no steps in that direction have been made. I'm grown-up enough to notice the little positivity grasped along the way. But I'm also dubious enough to realize that things are actually hauling me in deeper into the quicksand. Illusions of strength are shattered. Hidden flaws are eventually undisclosed. And are aplenty. A logical sequence of thought would attach all of these to the whole journey of self-finding and self-improvement. But logic is not my strong point. Let’s say your mind games have already rendered a significant part of your being worthless, useless and purposeless. So when all what’s left of you are proven by the unforgiving force of reality to be defective, what is really left of you?

So here I am with a solution. More like a theory. One for me to try to validate myself. You take inspiration from robots. Roboticize yourself. Gather all your emotions and all the thoughts that can stem from emotions. The self-loathing thoughts, the distraction thoughts, the so-called happy thoughts. Package all of these in a box. Seal it with a hundred layers of masking tape. Toss it away a hundred miles. Now utilize all what’s left of your mind to sort out things you have no options of not doing. Execute these things with your soulless body. Keep doing this until… I don’t know. That’s the furthest I can think of right now. But maybe something good will come out of this. I’ll be doing myself proud if I can achieve it.

People have likened their ordinary lives to robotic existence. Some of them find solace in it, some tolerate it and others complain about it. But all things considered, they are all living it. What does it make me if all I want to do, all I genuinely desire to do right now is to become like these robots?

At least they are robots. I’m only a piece of rusty scrap metal.