Tag Archives: boredom

Lost It

I lost my passion.
That burning drive
and fire.

I don’t know where it went
or how I lost it.
I just know it’s gone.

Strange thing is
I can’t really say I miss it.
Other feelings filled the void.

Or
Maybe they’re not feelings,
really.
Just business and tasks that are
an adult’s daily chores.

There is a certain cyclicness to my life now.
A carefully charted path
with nothing unperceivable
and completely flat.

Oh – flatlining?
What a term for the living!
To stay straight on a narrow line.

Are we not all just cogs in one big machine?
So Pecknold says.
Is that our destiny?

Ridiculous and bleak.
I better find that passion,
before such a life takes hold of me.

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Bridge the Gap

Sometimes,

there is a lapse

in my brain.
Do you know?
Its like a missed beat,

a skipping record,

a scratched CD.
I am one place,

and then another.

No recollection.

No memory of the in between.
Is it repitition?

Is it boredom?

Is it too much focus on distant reality?
Its like I am asleep

in this world

and awake in another

but only for a moment.
Do I bridge the gap

and then snap back

without remembering?

AN ODE TO L.A.

This world does not skip a beat—
it waits on them.

Onward and onward
stretches the flashes of metal
on the urban concrete.

Long days
spent in odors of exhaust
on the discomfort of
cheap car leather.

The constant buzzing of horns
and angry gestures,
heat piling inside
and out.

Never-ending is this scene.
It’s a mind-wrenching saga
with no end in sight.

I don’t miss you and will not return.

Please,
keep your tightening veins
and wasted hours.

Love – a regretful visitor.

DAY DREAM

Does she know that I dream about her every night of the week?

Elise walked coolly toward the file room, hips swaying to some unknown rhythm that I so desperately wanted to become part of. From behind my stack of papers in Accounting Department C, I watched her.

Everyday. 10:32am sharp. There she was appearing from those dull elevator doors to file Monty’s notes from the morning meetings. She was Monty’s assistant the rest of the time, but from 10:32 to 10:36, she was my pleasure for the day.

There was nothing else interesting about this office. What else was a man of my age to do? Stare at Wendy over in cube three who doesn’t even understand how a hair dryer works? Or try to make conversation with Phil in cube nine that spends most of his time looking up cats dressed in knitted sweaters? Or Fran in two that always wants tell you what little Maurice did at school today? Hell, there wasn’t even a window in Accounting Department C to look out. Not even a god-forsaken cloud could save me from the cesspool of boredom that creeped around this place.

But Elise, on the other hand, was some kind of shining star that just lit up the place. Everything else could be put behind me when she walked in. Her blonde curls bouncing around that elegant face, so perfectly manicured. Tailored dresses and skirts that were skin tight, but to the point that it was classy, none of that trash that other girls try to pull. Putting her in a room makes it tens time better.

No. A hundred times better.

She is what makes this place bearable. But then, just like them all, that light is swallowed by the ding of the elevator and the click of her hills tapping on its slated floors.

The room becomes darker again. The sound of monotonous clicking and buzzing phones reemerge, complementing the ever graying walls.

ON THE EDGE

I am exhausted.

My eyes

may fall out of my head.

 

My legs

they shake

like weeds in the wind.

 

But I keep walking

to divert the boredom.

Always on the edge.

 

Light weights become

sore muscles.

Bones ache.

Pain inflames.

It is hard to ignore.

 

But I keep walking

to divert the boredom.

Always on the edge.

 

Veins show through

tired skin.

Blood turns thin.

The body runs cold.

 

Rest is on the other side.

There I can refill

surrounding myself in

milky dreams of comfort.

But do not be fooled.

I didn’t give in.

 

I keep walking

to divert the boredom.

Always on the edge.