Wordplay
Boredom.
The soul sucking state of trapped inefficient use of human potential. As others rush by, my mind wanders to somewhere, anywhere to escape the useless driveling waste that makes one go mad. Alone when others come by, alone when they go. So used to plugging in now nowhere to go.
As the mind fills itself to overflowing and creatives burst forth, a dam broken, Athena born. Clothed masturbation sets in as the mind fights on. Desperate, isn’t it?
I am Jack’s split personality warring on itself to continue a useless slavish task of allowing others to do nothing. My hours slowly pass in thirds, halves, whole fractions of minutes ticking by at slower than snails’ paces and yet the week flies on hummingbird wings,
months go in a blink,
leaving us to stink
in the vile waste
of making a buck.
