Consumption Cuffs

It's been 3 days. The heat today subsided, so I took to my heels through city streets and parklands. The breeze fed me. My feet met the ground. I smiled at people as they passed.

I took rest at a cafe for breakfast, watching the world come and go. I recognise my need to consume this way. I enjoy being served food and drink, a final thread of my salaried lifestyle that fed into my dopamine addictions.

With reduced income for the foreseeable future, the reaction to cafe spending could be tyrannical. But I look at what I did before walking away from my career. I saved my disposable and lived on a budget that met my basic needs.

While working, the disposable income was disposed of. It numbed me enough to believe the lack of value I witnessed in the system was not my fault. I got paid not only to tolerate systemic dysfunction but to mask it. My advocacy kept everyone in a place of status quo.

Now, I spend my days gaining insight into boredom, people watching, and seeing that I always had the keys to the golden handcuffs. I see now that my need to visit a cafe once in a while is not locked to a sense of numbness or reward. It's evidence that I am still living in the world on my doorstep.