Another day

“Well, fuck...” the first words of the day, seemingly incoherent, and yet to him, these words made all the sense in the world. Waking before the alarm clock was really getting his mind go off the rails, never minding the context of the whole situation. With eyes wide open, he smiled. “It's going to be another one of those days, shit...” Another hard to comprehend thought of the day appeared in his mind as if magically summoned by the damned past, He got up and went full autopilot mode. Piss, shower, teeth, dress up then check if everything he prepared yesterday was still there, like if something could have changed. His mind goes dark and wakes in another dimension for a split second here and there. “Hmm” He really didn't care if anybody could hear his grunting, people were distractions, like snowflakes in the wind. While his mind raced on, the body was moving around with no apparent control.

Five or thirty minutes later, he was ready, yet again, to go against the grain. With a smile of course, to him it was The Smile, the only thing left inside his mind that kept on pushing him forward, onward, ahead of the prime directive to never look back and keep going down the twisted trail.

“Tum...dee...dumm” another day, another life, another chance, another what? He was not exactly sure what he was thinking about but it seemed to him that it might be just what he was looking for. Maybe today he will find it. Maybe not. Still there will be another sunrise, and with it another day, and the gears shall turn once more.

As he descended the flight of stairs, he was making sharp twists on every floor, it reminded him of the past. It was long gone, but not forgotten. Step one, two, three. With each the past comes back and fades away. But he knew it was still there, inside, somewhere. The past is the foundation of the present, never, ever tamper with it, he reminded himself, what's done is done as someone once said, and yet "I'll do stupid things today"

(Indeed) his inner voice approved.

By the time he had walked out of the building his mind was already twisted, and he knew exactly why. There was not a single thing he could do to change the outcome of the next forthcoming hours, and he knew it. He felt it. He lived it, in his mind, he saw what will happen and wouldn't change it in the slightest. All that was left to do was to live these precious moments. Tiny speckles of time going by and through the everlasting moment of self realization, the comprehension of what could have been if...

“Fucking, Ifs” he hated the Ifs. The ifs are like cockroaches, popping out of nowhere, whenever you let them. He knew that, understood that, and he squashed all the ifs the moment they popped their ugly heads out of the abyss of the past into the now.

As he walked the pavement the morning breeze brought the promise of that elusive change in the air. It was not a long walk. He smiled, again. “Change, change is good” he muttered to himself, but he really thought about what the fuck is he getting himself into this time.