06 February 2011

only boring people are bored

I woke up mid afternoon as the sunlight kidney filtered & pale urine coloured tapped at my eyelids.  I got up to do nothing, to be nothing, shrugged the chenille jumper back on and pushed the gap between my first two toes into the flip-flops.

I sagged over this screen to see if you had been thinking of me even though it is a Sunday and I knew you would not, you would be somewhere walking the dog along the beach, no wait, that was in the other house, before you moved to be close to your in-laws and the ready made babysitting facilities.  I still hoped you would think of me but it gets harder to hold a picture of me in your head when real life is happening around you and I am doing nothing, perhaps in suspended animation until you have a fleeting moment to think, to reminisce.

I see the little blobs above the houses and shops when I close my eyes now doing nothing but clicking here, clicking there, clicking where I am told to by the dumb computer game and I accept it and let this limited structure be my life, do as I am allowed as I am expected to do.  Will I take this half promotion which means more work and less recognition, oh yeah sure since you ask, no not nicely just since you ask and I must do that stuff as it would be impolite not to.

I read someone say they had boundaries of tissue paper and I thought of how I do nothing and let tissue paper become my boundaries, build fucking great concrete prisons out of tissue paper, and I did not used to be like this and I am getting worse and worse at hiding it.  Muslin curtains at the windows are enough to seal the world from me.

I sent a message out into the aether, no not to you, to someone who was a distraction from you for a while, an incandescent spark of distraction that is burnt out now because I am so boring and stale.  He used to push me on too, tell me things, say things to me and I drew stuff out of myself to reply, building, pulling and pushing at myself and what I thought were boundaries but now they are not even tissue paper, yesterdays toilet paper and flushed away and I am too far below notice to be worth a reply now.

The sun is going down in a small fizz of light mostly hidden by the metal grey indifferent clouds and the lights in my flat are on and I am opaque to the world outside the windows again.


dont eat the token said...

i enjoyed your post, and your "too much" poem

very much

toomuchpractice said...

thank you ;)