Adulting

It's exactly 7:37 AM on a breezy Saturday morning.

I'm feeling pretty upbeat on this very fine day. No hangovers or headaches. And for some strange reason, the streets are awfully quiet today.

Truth be told, I live for moments like this. The serenity and aura of tranquillity tickle me in places I can't mention right now. My nipples are getting hard just thinking about it.

I always dread those mornings where I have to get up, get ready and set off to work. I'd rather be in bed until about 10 AM. I hate it. It really hurts just settling for a job because your options in a third-world country are quite limited. So yea! I am extremely elated and enlivened about the situation I've got going on here right now.

It's now 8.05 AM and here I am, still in bed basking in the comfort of my duvet and the cool feel of breeze seeping through my windows. At this point, my stomach starts growling so loudly it could wake up the grumpy couple next door. In my head, I envision myself having some proper full English breakfast in bed on some fancy island with no fucks in the world to give but I get interrupted by another loud roar resonating from the depths of my gut that feels like my soul is about to haul itself out of my body.

I inertly drag myself out of bed and as I do so, I hear the snapping sounds coming from my joints which scare the crap out of me. The doctors say stretching is good so I decide to indulge in this activity today with my semi-hard cock swinging like a pendulum. Feels good.

I figure it's time to find some food to eat before I pass out on this hard floor; that would really suck because no one is gonna find me lying here until after a month maybe. The problem I have to face now is what to eat. There's almost never anything to eat in this tiny flat. Should it happen that there's something to eat, I can guaranty that it'll be something very gross and unhealthy. I am in my mid-twenties and I still can't cook a decent meal for myself. I walk out to my fridge to grab whatever meal I'd forgotten was in there for longer than God knows when and alas, there's nothing in there but an open can of sardines just staring me in the face with so much disgust as if me thinking about how shit my life is wasn't enough.

As I close the fridge, there it is, the big picture I'd never seen, ever. Or maybe I chose to not see it. The image I see depicts a grotesque of the ugliness of self-pity, depression, and anxiety; there on the body of the stainless-steel refrigerator is my reflection.

I am staring at my reflection.

It's just me here, standing with sadness in my eyes and right in front of me is the fridge, standing over me in its robust posture as if to belittle me and rob me of the last source of dignity I have left.

What a miserable sight to behold!

Someone had once called me that y'know—'a miserable sight.' I didn't believe it back then and only assumed he had said that out of spite or was just being the mean prick that he was known to be. It's like an epiphany. A point of vivid realisation. The realisation that 'adulting' is such a mean bitch. Her heart is as cold as the Night King's balls and no amount of warmth could make her heart grow softer.

I immediately lose my appetite. The emptiness that repressed my stomach is all of a sudden gone. With a bowed head, I walk back into my room—my space of the good, the bad and the disappointments.

So here I am, sat on my bed wondering what the fuck is going on. The mental pictures of my earlier caught reflection is haunting and taunting me now. All I hear is a voice in my head asking a question. Just the one question.

"What is your problem?"

I can't keep still for more than 10 minutes without this damned question knocking on the door of my brain. It's all I hear. Even in my sleep. This is torture and I can't seem to control it. I am so sick of being asked this. This voice in my head has to be the worst voice I've heard in my life. It always there playing like a broken cassette tape player.

I reckon if I'd known the answer to that question, I wouldn't be here talking to you in the first place. I'd have answered that question a long time ago.I'd have had my life sorted out but sadly all I feel is a void. A dark and cold void. I've never felt so alone in my life.

What even is the purpose of life? What do I do? How do I go about it?