The Mundane Before the Moving

A contemplation of the mundane, and a reason for roaming.

"We either make a calculated escape, or resign to becoming cynical, bored — and worst — dependent on constant entertainment for relief, because our work does little but drain us."
  -David Cain

I lay in my sleeping bag, within four blank white walls.
Its still. And silent. The only sense of a world beyond this 12-ft-side white box is the hum of the cars outside.
I stare into a white screen of possibilities. Lights at the end of my carpal tunnel. And I feel numb.
The only food I have in the house is oatmeal and protein bars, so I stop into my workplace again to grab something to eat.
The bright white industrial lights reflect off of the metal appliances and white walls, and out into the dark, small-town sky.
I come face to face with a past lover. We stare at each other blankly.
I remind myself that society is an intertwining of relationships that bloom and die dynamically as people's needs and desires fluctuate.
In my own society dreamscape people's interactions change but they're all a part of a community with the unspoken guarantee that each person has the other's back
Back from dreaming, I'm laying stomach-down on the bed. In this white box, I am contained. I don't see, I don't feel- except that I am at a standstill. I stare. I exist. But I do not move.
Does anyone move while within the mundane? No steps, no motion, taken to better oneself and therefore the world. It's the blank white box people put themselves in when they've become dissillusioned. There's an uncomfortable sort of stability in the mundane that people choose over the discomfort of the unknown.
Here mainstream society lays. In white boxes and white screens. Sprouting blank stares at anything that questions the conformity. On autopilot in the mundane, we feel at peace amongst the destruction and our detachment from what's real.

--Me in my current state of resignation--