The emptiness of boredom strikes hardest when your incessant attempts to find a purpose bear no fruit. A feeling of hopelessness manifests and begins to unroll a downward spiral of depression. We must find purpose out there. With all this seemingly free time, there is a talent we all have that can be marketed. What to do? How can we do it? Why? What’s the point of trying? The point is – we are better than the next, better qualified to see the world as it is, better prepared to fit into any open space, seamlessly willing to do what others will not.
Boredom is a sloppy drawing,
Like ink without a pen,
There is no dot worth pointing out.
Boredom is an unfinished project,
Balsa to cherry wood,
Radio to ultra violet,
Like fire without a flint,
There is no wood worth burning.
Boredom is the failure’s mantra,
Like a rebel without a cause,
There is no deviance worth deferring.