Someone daily life can be a real automatism to which she/he becomes accustomed to,unaware
| This oppressive time, heavy after years like lead,
Numbing you, you stay strayed.
Yesterday like tomorrow, in this path where all is penumbra,
There, clocks are arrested so that to freeze time.
There, where time is bothering, stereotyped,
There, only clock noise is heard.
Homogeneous, similar; your repeated actions like an echo,
Play an infernal game of monotony.
This automatism to which you become accustomed to, is
Just a deep felt discomfort, your different actions become similar.
This filtered time towards your fingers, you ignore it, you are not aware.
Preventing you, to see and savor life even though its radiance.
Where are this shinning sun, this immaculate sky, these varied colors and these bird songs?
Carried away forever, self-made monotony embedding you,
In such music box, this repeating refrains like a poison to life,
Your freedom chained,
Routine prevents you to live.