Nostalgic Boredom: Doldrums- 1/21/08

Doldrums - January 21st, 2008



I am...
     depressed.
The all-too-welcoming full moon
and dark sky
          are not friendly to me anymore.
Instead,
     as I've been told...
I'm just a bitter ass,
               desperately clinging to
               bullshit and bandages.
Put aside the fact
     I try always to be there...
but 'nice guys finish last'
          I hear
and it sinks in like
     the evening's
          chill.

I am...
     restless.
I can't sleep anymore;
hours spent unconscious
               true,
but no rest comes for
          the wicked,
the damned, the dumb, or the
              blue.
I want out of this limbo lifestyle...
this perpetual holding of
               breath.
I want to sigh relief so strong it carries
away everyone on my back,
     my heart,
          my mind,
               my soul.
I want to lose my shoes,
     and go...
to wander aimlessly pointed until
I decide to rest.
Dreams are like malignant tumors:
     unless treated, they fester and grow
                    then kill you.

I am waiting.
I am waiting for more puzzle pieces
     to fall into place.
I am waiting to see if any of this gibberish will
          make any sense to me.
I am waiting?
I am tired of waiting.
     I want to kick the world in the
     stomach until it coughs up blood
     so I can stand, loom over it and
     scream PAYBACK'S A BITCH, EH?

I feel...
     skeptical.
I fear that even with a Democrat in the White House,
we're all still going
          down.
Sure, great
               things were done in the Great Depression,
but I hope we
can withstand our soon-to-be-great REcession;
I wish Woody Guthrie was still
                     alive.
I can't say I feel much more confidant
about the state of American culture;
Walmart builds upon the ruins of archaic gods.
Designer children are the next step
     in human de-evolution.

I am...
          bored.
Friends go when the bill comes,
and I'm desperate for something to do.
My fingers are stiff,
               but my crotch is way too hot
because the heater in my apartment
sucks worse than last winter.
And I hate this goddamn weather;
boredom is fed by the fact that I hate being outdoors.
My favorite coffee shop is
full of blunt hipsters:
their self-awareness and narcissistic simplicity
is the sour cherry on top
of my faded-leather tasting
                    sundae.
Worse than worst...
I am still bored.

I have...
     something?
A hunger of unknown
          origin
is picking at me like a pack of carrion,
yet it makes less sense than this.
I need to get out of here;
Hemingway had it right with Africa...
at least you have survival to look forward to.

I am...
     ...
          ...
               done...

                         ...now.