circles. till the tires fall off we go in circles. repeating what worked before, we explore variations and look for short cuts but veer not far from the roads we have made. from the neighborhood we call home, the friends we have made, the jokes that worked. rinse, wash, repeat, wake, eat, sleep. i have had the same conversation in various forms to so many. that the world is this way and that, how the end is like the start, how hurt people hurt people, and each time around i keep hitting my head in the same spot.

organisms and viruses work this way. through repetition, thieves also work this way, trying as many doors as possible, a salesman never stops pushing, a mother never ceases to worry and the waves keep crashing onto shore. our lizard minds adapted to a modern society by opening our eyes to scan our phones, to find ourselves in group photos first, to think of survival and how to grow. through no choice of our own, all our actions point to survival, to gaining inches, to repetition.

happiness is the longing for repetition.

milan kundera

and so i write on. i try to put down in space the concerns or conditions i notice. i keep coming back to sitting up straight, calling mom, brushing my teeth and keeping aware. at the same time, i push the wheel of life once more around the yard, a circle has formed beneath my feet. a small indent has been made that others can see, that people can walk in. i repeat my words, if only to myself, to the clouds, to you. unaware of any progress, the seasons keep coming and going, everything ephemeral. yet seemingly real if i simply keep repeating it.