Every morning I wake up looking forward to the day, knowing already what is to happen. Every minute I move periodically, like the hands of a clock. My vision is blurry, I see nothing in front of me and blindly follow my muscle memory. If I wander off course, they send me to the repair center. They fix me to go back to my schedule. And I move along once again, like the hands of a clock.
Finally, I stagger in pain, tired of moving along. No more, I scream out in agony, I decide to change. I break my chains, my wrists bleed from the friction. I breathe in the freedom; determination overtakes my pain. My sight is clear, and I map my way. My eyes are focused as I run for the door. As I take a step forward, I feel a force on my shoulders. The hands shove me onto the wall, my blood paints the concrete. My vision becomes blurry, my knees touch the floor.
My eyes open wide as I realize that it is only the way of life. We have our tracks set, we follow the sign boards and drive along the same road every day. Breaking away is only a dream, a dream for the brave. I watch as the chains slide back around my wrist, tighter than ever. I close my eyes and blindly follow my body. I move along yet again, mechanically like the hands of a clock.
