They say to keep your friends close but your enemies closer. That’s why apathy and I are almost inseparable. All that lies between us are empty yoghurt pots, dirty socks, and a layer of dust.
You don’t fight with apathy. It always seems to win. So why bother? It enjoys sitting with you on the sofa, doing nothing, avoiding everything. It’s favourite word is procrastinate.
Apathy doesn’t judge you. But it makes you judge yourself. To the point where you wonder, why do I let myself live like this? DO SOMETHING. But it doesn’t let you. It holds you down, holds you back.
You want to scream and shout at apathy for turning you into the person you have become. The person you don’t want to be. But it muzzles you and reminds you of your feeble purpose.
So, in the end, you comply. You grow used to its company and its consequence. Toleration becomes normality. But apathy never changes. It’s always there. Right by your side.
The worst of friends but the best of enemies.
How can there be so much of you, and so little.
I thought I controlled my days but I don’t, you do.
You are around me always, yet so elusive.
I keep losing you, but you were never mine.
When I need more of you, I can’t find you.
You are constant, yet I am always running out of you.
You can be so fast, and so slow, but you are always the same.
I don’t have you, but I always need you.
Despite your value, I often waste you.
I never capture you, but you always escape me.
You don’t do anything, but you define everything.
You make the world go round.
I simply watch.