Most days I just walk around. Wander the streets. Sometimes I go to shopping centers because they are clean and nobody belongs there. I feel calm there. I might buy a vegetable juice now and then but usually I buy nothing. Other times I might fill a shopping cart full of shit and then just walk out and leave it there, getting high on the emptiness of materialism.
I live in a one room apartment. The room is quite big. It’s on the second floor and the windows are also quite big. So big that sometimes I pretend I am the overlord of this village, overlooking my kingdom.
I have no curtains. Outside my windows I can see a final stop of a busline as well as the neon signs of a supermarket and pharmacy. And trees. Lots of trees. But the windows are far enough that when it’s dark nobody can see me.
It is rare that I talk to anyone these days besides basic small talk at checkout counters or if I have to call some stupid number to sort out some trivial bullshit. It’s always one thing after another.
I also keep a pretty low profile online. Nothing too crazy. Leave them wanting more although I am fully aware that most people dont really give a fuck. If I wanted to, I could be famous. Just saying.
Identity has always confused me. What the hell is the point of being the same person all the time? Same haircut. Same preferences. Same stupid ass opinions. I prefer to live like an actor. I can be anyone. We are all programmed to deceive.
You might get a bleak impression of me. Yet I have a vision for a better world. Just not a huge fan of this death culture. Years ago I decided to resign from all of it. Now I am nobody. Going nowhere. My job is doing nothing. And by nothing I mean there is no goal or destination. You cannot call anything I do a “thing”. I am just existing. Observing. Allowing.
They call me the drifter.