the diversion

Wake up, move, routine day in and day out.

I guess I must, practice makes perfect.

Practice, practice, practice, practice living...

Day in and day out.

Slide into my bed like a timecard.

Then a noise, a jingling set of keys, like lights on the side of a freeway and I can't help but slow down to look. Something different from the routine, an escape, it slows down the...

Routine, practice, right back into it. Don't lose focus.

The same begins to be second nature, numb, the same? It's hard to tell now.
Am I insane if I think that doing the same thing every day will cause a different outcome? Or do I need to do something different to be better?

Then that light again, the noise so unfamiliar yet gratifying. I tugs at me to see what is on the other side, perhaps it's the difference I'm looking for, the next step hidden in the outside of my routine path. My norm, my safe place. The escape.
Perhaps that's all it is, an escape from the routine, the ice cream I shouldn't have after every meal. Or should I?
Is it all an escape, a drug, a moment outside this "real" world that I'm living for?

But I dont slow down for the lights, I dont take that path that's off the freeway, the escape from the routine or the path to my fall? All I know is that if I keep on the freeway it will get me to tomorrow. But that escape keeps calling me.  

Can I jump in, pull over, take the step into the rabbit hole? It's scary, it's the unknown, to jump into the escape hatch. I'm listening to the enchanting warning of the siren but I cant help feel the pull to the unknown, to escape the routine of where I want to go. 

No, I can't change, I need to keep perusing change by doing the same thing over and over again.

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