automatic mode.

what i imagine is an empty life, you know. a purposeless life, set on automatic mode: get up, shower, breakfast (some healthy cereals), drive to work, quick meal shortly after noon, end of daily work, drive home, do some quick shopping for dinner. cook the dinner, eat it in silence while watching the twenty-hour news magazine on a small-sized telly. sitting in the sofa while the dishwasher does is job, watching the night's soap. and bed time. tomorrow will be the same. and the next day. and the next day. until the weekend comes, and if the sun is out, then it is time to go out and walk a bit through a park made of green, fake grass, with fake wooden benches and people who meet there out of desperation, pretending to be happy. maybe watch a movie later, the latest mindless blockbuster that looks so cool. and it goes on and on, saving money for those holidays in the high summer, so it is possible to go across the ocean to some so-called paradise island and spend the days frying under the sun, drinking mojitos and getting tanned, taking a crapload of fake pictures to show to the fake friends. escaping an illusion by falling into another. and then the cycle resumes itself. dull and empty. automatic mode.