Updated: Jun 25
Inspiration, infused boredom.
I infuse my boredom with anything and everything that may strike up inspiration. To be or not to be? A free write history. Historical archives meet fancy new modern eyes. I sleep to dream of knowing all that is listed. And I awake, looking to encounter all that has past. I’ll just learn through osmosis this time, and use this encyclopedia as a pillow.
Mmmm, the information never tasted quite this overwhelming. My tastebuds are in a frenzy, and I am floating now, on clouds, in a multiverse where Jesus and Buddha hold hands. Where even the darkest hold insight to the lightest. I wonder how long I can remain without disdain.
I speak and just vibrations come out. Like frequency waves simulated on some sort of super computer. I can see my words but there is no audible noise to associate. Oh, and it seems that I am not alone, others are listening maybe with their eyes like me, but I have a distinct feeling that it has something to do with their hearts.
Hmm. That’s it, there hearts are receiving and transmitting. Without the usual process of communication, I am being heard. Interesting. For a moment I want to continue this and generate it more just to see how it works, but something tells me that I will find that to be unfulfilling. It reminds me that I cannot force myself to feel further and emit more, that I must sit back and remain. It is my being without my thinking that seems to produce this miracle. Hmm. Okay I say.
Boredom is just space where desire goes unanswered. So, I sit with this as a way to re-program myself. There is no boredom for a restless soul. Only a word with a definition to fill a void-less whole.