A Life Unfit To Live


Boring is a lifeless, dull, complete absence of surprises. Boring is monotony stretched like a piano wire through time. Boring is all smoothed corners and no jags. Boring is unscarred knees, music without passion, art without love. Boring is a face at sale. Boring seeks what boring is. Boring is a seethed sigh that somehow goes on for minutes…hours…days. Boring is words with Latin roots. Boring is taxes, the government, and death. Boring is the repitition of a repitition that wasn’t interesting to begin with. Boring is imagination tied up, beaten, drugged, gagged, and stuffed in a trunk.

Boring is a drowned boy, face down, lulled in the waves.

Boring is brainwashed minions.

Boring is the diarrhea on the tube, on social media, on the radio, in the movie theaters.

Boring is a mouth with nothing to say.

Who among us has the capacity to surprise,

to love without compromise,

and to revel in the pulse of life,

in the redness of blood, in the supernova of youth?

Boredom is truth, boredom is innate, boredom is the spin of the universe out of your reach.

Open your ears, open your eyes and windows-boring is the tide, and the water has risen.

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