Every Day the Same Dream.

Well. Hey.

Got back from an evening with Ben and Stefan a couple of hours ago. We went to the circus [one of those occasions where it's acceptable to say "Shit!" several times a minute if it's accompanied by a gasp and the slight feeling of insignificance that comes from watching inhumanly flexible/hot Dutch people perform stomach-churning feats we can only dream of]. 'twas pretty damn good :) I came away wishing for a very little bicycle so I can be cool, like the clown.

I don't have a connection between the circus and the topic of my rant today... Something that's been preying on my mind a lot lately is something I'm wary of, even scared, if you like.

Routine. Lack of individuality.

A few months ago, my brother showed me a game [if you can even call it that] which explores both of those, from which I drew the title for this post. You control a faceless man who wakes up, gets dressed, says goodbye to his wife and then drives to work. The next morning he wakes up, gets dressed, says goodbye to his wife and then drives to work, as he does the next day, and the day after.

The object of the game is to help him escape the monotonous spiderweb that is his life. Little things - turning left instead of right, walking instead of driving. Each has a dramatic effect on the outcome of his day, eventually. The game reaches a climax when he has to kill himself - and yet, the next day, he still wakes up, gets dressed and drives to work.

I know, it's just a game - just an uncomfortable, poignant caricature of an often forgotten concept lingering in peoples' minds - but seriously, you try playing it. If you're anything like me, it's a brutal punch in the face. An unexpected and abrupt reality check, but not an entirely unwelcome one.

Think about it. Routine has become part of everyone's life now. In term time, we wake up at a certain time in order to be at school for a certain time, lessons commence at the same time every day, school finishes at a set time, sleep is inevitable though variable - and the next day we repeat the whole charade again. I don't know how, after twelve years of the same thing so far, my generation, and generations before us, have managed to stay sane.

For a start - it's boring. Routine, predictability, certainty, is dull. Depending on the person, reactions to something as simple as a new timetable at the beginning of the academic year vary from annoyance at essentially being told what to do and where to go for another whole year, to relief that nothing will change for another twelve months. Personally, I fall into the first category. No, I don't like surprises and yes, I do prefer to know where I'm meant to be, but all the same - a timetable dictates our moods and emotions as much as it dictates what lessons we have when, because one is directly affected by the other. I hate German and chemistry, so it's logical that, on Tuesday mornings, when I have double German followed by double chemistry, I'm going to be in a worse mood than I will be on Monday afternoons, when I have double English preceding a free period. A piece of paper controls my mood for a year, and it pisses me off.

I'm one of these people you can call a dreamer. When I'm PMSing, I want to grow wings and fly to the moon just to escape from everyone being infuriating and even when I'm calm, I know I'm happier when I'm retreating into my own, unrealistic little world. In my own, unrealistic little world, anything goes. Pudding before main? Absolutely. Bungee jumping from the Empire State Building? Go for it. Skinny dipping? Kinky, but why not? 

As it is, I'm stuck on Earth, with a timetable and exams and a pet to feed to keep me grounded [though the first two don't apply now and that comes with a feeling of elation, the feeling is dampened somewhat by the knowledge that it's going to come back with a vengeance next year]. Even now, on my holiday, my break, routine is evident - and this kind is more dangerous and depressing, because it stems from natural human habit as opposed to rules that oppose our natural cycles. Like a garden when left to grow of its own accord, people are made worse when they have no legitimate reason to go out and do stuff.

I'm confusing myself now. Then again, it's two in the morning and I'm on the verge of passing out. Words are beginning to meld into one, like my days. I'll try and spellcheck some other time. For now, check this out - and type "Every Day the Same Dream" into Google.

As long as habit and routine dictate the pattern of living, new dimensions of the soul will not emerge. [Henry Van Dyke]