Wondering why I sit
Doing nothing
Holding nothing
Being nothing
Seeing nothing
Creating nothing
I suppose that I should be grateful
Grateful that I'm not dead
Or crippled
Or stupid
Or something like that
But I cant help feeling empty
As if I am missing something
Bored with the world it seems
Everything is the same
Nothing changes
Not conversation
Not people
Nothing
Nothing moves me like it used to
Sunrise shows me no beauty
Sex holds little appeal
I have to remind myself of things that are fun
Remind myself that it wasn't always grey
That the picture wasn't always grainy
And that I used to focus
But now I can't concentrate on that
I simply sit
Trying to make the world rosier
By looking at through the bottom of a mug
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Comments
Try not to forget Carpe Dieum. The day is only what you make of it. You know the number if ya need to call.
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“Miserable creatures, thrown for a moment on the surface of this little pile of mud, is it decreed that one half of the flock should be the persecutor of the other? Is it for you, mankind, to pronounce on what is good and what is evil?”
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