Tag Archives: bored

something about an epiphany, or some other thing

lie in wait and go through fifty packs

of cigarettes, shaking one leg in idle seismology

and rattling spare change—

somewhere out there, there’s a beggar

ordering fancy coffee with your name misspelled

on the side of the cup, and the barista

makes sure to spill tiny drops on the counter as she hands it away

just so she has something to distract

herself with, when café rush hour takes over

into infinite passive stretches of replayed cheap hits and blasé

mundanity. perhaps you have the same get-out-of-town

ignition ambition as her, but the

patience is calibrated just a little bit differently; tomorrow

the beggar might steal a millionaire’s wallet

up there around west street and the barista might

finally get her big break

being a famous model for some shady automobile company

but you’d still be here,

making philosiphised fancies and abstract art

with acrid puffs of nicotine smoke

and praying for lung cancer,

composing fanciful jingles with the last three quarters

in your pocket that clash dissonantly against the fifty-third replay

of hey jude in a single godawful morning,

and hoping that perhaps this time,

your stupid name will finally be spelled right

on that beggar’s coffee cup

when you drop a measly dollar on it by his usual spot tomorrow—

oh well, a man can dream, anyway.

you’ll get up. you’ll snuff out the dying glow of your cheap pall mall.

you’ll dust away the ashes on your long-suffering knee.

you’ll drain your glass, shut your whining laptop, and leave a pathetic less-than-20% tip for the missing barista.

and you’ll get up and go.

as soon as your sleeping leg feels better.

okay. fine.

any moment now.

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Sunstroke

There is no proper distracting from this arid weather

The senseless numb uncomfortably prickling against itchy skin

Rendering all feelings invaluable, and dull, moth wings without shine

All powder and allergic reactions, a vivid death head out of sight

.

There is no distracting, just constant tossing and turning

Just blackened eyes glazing over and peeling plaster casts

And tossed bedsheets matted with cat fur and old sweat stains

From the impenetrable lassitude of a vengeful heat that’s all bite.

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Falling Out Of Place

God knows where

Guess it’s only fair

To take me apart

From the bottom up

.

If you’re too bored

To even say goodbye

Then the door’s ajar

There’s no time to lie

.

We left the old days

For a stubborn haze

A feverish fantasy

Some call it insanity

.

Feel the rush collide

With nothing more

Please wipe your blood

Off the bathroom floor

.

Don’t leave a message

It’s really rude to stare

I’ll be here, and you’ll be

Fucking god knows where.

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delays

the heat is addling

the corners of my eyes

bleeding with tears

that i so madly despise

.

crowds so dense

they all suffocate

as footsteps go on

of weary and late

.

i take a breath

but i can find none

fun was all fun

but now it’s all done

.

i’m stuck and bored

i don’t know why i try

“home sweet home”

has never been such a lie.

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This Uselessness is Murder.

I try to walk away, how has it come to this?
I’ve said it once, I’ve said it twice, 
I’ve said it a thousand fucking times
That I’m okay, that I’m fine, that it’s all just in my mind
But this has got the best of me, and I can’t seem to sleep…

~*~

Idling away with nothing but my butane thoughts

To reinforce the growing rot in my kindling head

Godforsaken memories ungraciously worm their way

Back from repressed twinge and into my unmade bed

Longing for a grandiose escape from this noetic asylum

I call my own mentality, as I keep desperately clawing

At the thin bleached walls of my own bleeding skull

But never shattering it completely, and only left dying

And I honestly just can’t fucking stand this sedentary state

Eyes left reduced to another silent ticking timebomb

Working my dull teeth’s grind like it’s a paying day’s job

Doing everything I can to keep myself blisslessly numb

And the worst part is when the overthinking kicks in

Hitting me straight in my fractured chest again and again until

I couldn’t breathe anymore, and until I would just about do

Anything, anything at all, just to distract myself and not to feel

And when the mollifying rain stops and the vengeful heat returns

To exacerbate the heavily-settling hell of a migraine inside

It’s all I can do to groan inhumanely and suffocate myself on the pillow

Realising wretchedly that summer hasn’t even started—and I’ve already died.

~*~

Every second, every minute
Every hour, every day
It never ends, it never ends
Every second, every minute
Every hour, every day
It never ends, it never ends…

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irate

i’m fairly certain

of uncertainties

building parasites

in my infected brain

a little bit crank

that turns it dank

festering and yet

putting a bad strain

i’m bored and i’m

sore to my very

tired core, bleeding

out dumb opinions

the accented words

like spoiled milk curd

making way for crass

and cold sophistication

the breath of crowds

and the noises loud

don’t give me any space

to sigh and think

rippling notions

and forced emotions

like an alacrity of

an underpaid shrink

so i slowly close and

repose, and take an

insipid revival in

one inch of a breath

press nagging voices

out of my deaf ears

before i go and catch

out an earlier death

i’m sickened of the

fire they’re all boiling

under my charred

and overcooked skin

a little bit further

i can’t take it any longer

and my short temper

cuts itself loose again.

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Broadcasting Live From The Seatbelt

Come one, come all, you’re just in time
To witness my first breakdown
‘Cause there’s a mile gone
For every minute passed
When I’m stuck in this town…

~*~

For every minute I count at the tip of my jaded palm

Makes me believe that I can actually give a damn

Third time’s the charm, but the thirtieth’s just tiring

I’ll save my breath for the holidays I won’t be taking

.

Change the radio station when nothing good’s ever on

Witness as I crash my car high on the beat of a breakdown

Just to make the news, just ‘cause I’m fucking bored

At least something exciting happened in this deadbeat town

.

But I don’t need a doctor, and I don’t need more pills

I’m not crazy, just feeling sorry that I don’t know what to feel

Passed out from the traffic fumes, stuck in my head for hours

Wishing I had better hair, wishing I had superpowers

.

And I’m not coming clean, what else is the reason now?

Dreams don’t come for free, especially not in this late hour

My stereo’s playing the greatest hits, I’m so sick of hearing it

I’d drink beer and smoke a drag, but I don’t know when to quit

.

For every second and mile that I waste, wasted off these foolish promises

Like my ragged backseat holster and stained carpet, my existence is a mess

And this just in, the latest breaking news is that I’m already fucking breaking

But I’ll step on the brakes until it stops, until I don’t know which road I’m taking.

~*~

So go on and lock me up, you better throw away that key
Before I find out where you broadcast from
Because your playlist is killing me
I’ll change that station, light it up like the 4th of July
It’s me, I’m caller fifteen, time to play my last request…

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Rumours and Hearsay From Astronomy

“It wasn’t her who broke the stars.”

.

But she felt guilty all the same

As she stared at the dull midnight sky

Scattered with shards of light that hurt

In astral twinges and lunar fringes

When it hits her unblinking eyes

.

“It was him who fixed the horizon.”

.

But he didn’t feel responsible at all

He was merely there by coincidence

When it began to have mended itself

Coalescing into incandescent dawn

And yet he couldn’t say anything

.

“There’s this girl who locked the moon into the nebulae…

…and that boy painted the firmament rather ebulliently.”

.

Such mere rumours that the bored planets

Whispered clandestine amongst themselves

Altering details and chasing phantasmagoria

As the supernova truth shrank into a black hole

And sucked the boy and the girl in its dark void.

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Shortsighted Longviews

Sit around and watch the tube, but nothing’s on
I change the channels for an hour or two
Twiddle my thumbs just for a bit
I’m sick of all the same old shit
In a house with unlocked doors
And I’m fucking lazy…

~*~

Life is heading nowhere

Let’s beat up junkies in this dead-end shit town

I’ve smoked my eyes red

And turned my whole life and brain upsidedown

My room is a total mess

Of posters, porn magazines and week-old pizza

But I don’t have to stress

If I clean it up, I’ll lose track of my own paranoia

My remote is so worn-out

Surfing the channels but I end up watching static

A tidal wave of chips and soda

Of trash and junk piling up under this ratty sofa

There’s no bullies I could fight

No school walls I can spray paint with fuck you

And I’m sick of thinking right

And looking for a father that I never even knew

My skateboard lost one wheel

And my knees are too skinned to recover now

Afternoon heat’s suffocating

I hate having to go out and have a blast anyhow

There’s nothing else to do

All my friends are busy making out behind diners

I can fake my own death

But I’m just too lazy to think about it any further

Soggy, bathed in apathy

Wasting time by counting the hairs on my head

Being a creep to the girls

Acne on my face spelling loser, I’d rather be dead

They say I’m being dumb

But I’m just another stupid kid who has the right

And I just wanna be numb

To the pain of thinking of growing up overnight

Am I whining again, mother?

This broken home I live in still hasn’t fixed itself

My head cracked like the streets

You don’t have to care if it’s all bad for my health

Playing the same old cycles

I’m just a hairy dog trapped under the summer rain

So where’s the motivation?

It’s fucking lonely, and I’m the only one who remains

I lit fireworks ’til I burned out

There’s no light at the end of this suburban purgatory

Nothing but a juvenile doubt

Picking scabs and bleeding, let me escape this misery

Maybe I will run away again

Hitch my way or maybe jump over the turnstile train

Until the pighead cops catch me

And send me back to bed, busted-up and beaten badly

I still wonder what the hell to do

They say it’s teenage angst, but I’m too fucking angry to listen

I don’t know if I’ll have a better view

When I come around the noose, and I’ll still be jaded even then.

~*~

Bite my lip and close my eyes
Take me away to paradise
I’m so damn bored I’m going blind
And I smell like shit…

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Concrete & Clocks

Time is ticking like pewter rocks

Another stony glare for the clock

Paralyse, stupor, lethargic, stuck

The yawn escapes, I’m outta luck

Time is ticking, wasting the clock

Ideas hit me but they fail to knock

Ennui colliding like massive trucks

I’m falling out and dead like a fuck.

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