Habits

Out of habit I ordered the usual. The waiter brought me my espresso and I gulped it in Italian fashion. I don't even like espressos, neither the taste, nor the fact that it made me jittery and feeling like I can electrocute someone with a bloodshot stare. Why did I order it? It's the usual. "So what" - you'd ask and I would not have an adequate response.

Oh mighty habits, puppeteers of human action! So much suffering in the name of thoughtlessness. Thoughtfulness is what I run from and my habits are my treadmill. But praise the habits because they move us towards pleasure and away from pain. Until pleasure becomes pain in the context of existence where one is to find themselves trapped.

Let habit guide you into prison. Only like that you could learn to trust the force capable of guiding you out of prison too.

Go!