A day in the life...

There's something almost poetic about a balmy morning after a night without sleep.
It feels.... right, somehow.
The wind rushes across my arms and chills my blood.
I'm barely awake but I feel alive!
Traffic is moving symmetry, so early in the morning;
everything has its place, and you just fit in.
I ride, like a passenger on a conveyor,
to a place i work, like a cog in a machine,
so that I can barely afford to act like a clone
in a world where being accepted means comforming,
conforming to a tradition even more worthless than it is stupid.