My days blend into patterns, sounds, repeated moments. If I'm home, its 5 o'clock when the neighborhood cult begins banging their drums, and about 6 when they finish. It was 8 o'clock when through my thin walls I could hear my nextーdoor neighbor starting a bath, recently her hours at work must have changed her two year habbit though. The porno shop stairs also moved out last week, so the shutters closing at 2 in the morning can no longer be my get to bed notice.
My morning meal tends to be a pattern too. Fruit juice and a tuna flavored seaweedーrice triangle. Not that I prefer tuna, the pattern just makes selection simple.
I tend to think the same thoughts even, repeat, repeat, rephrase, repeat. Not that I'm saying thats a bad thing or a good thing. It's just human existance.
