Bored Stiff

Bored stiff spinning along this shiny blue marble into the abyss.
Books on the shelve collecting dust, what do we do will all these pages?
Bleeding out the ink from all my pens on my desk.
waiting on the muse, waiting on bliss's last kiss

Covid, isolation, crisis, humanity, society, and the rest of the list that keeps me up at night. The sleeping pills are drying out the back of my throat. Youtube says Matt Christman Develops His Third Eye, Zero books, a glass of whiskey, the night is getting Lil freaky.

Q Anon is Now a Religion. Unplugging during this time of isolation is a lot harder then it seems, with LSD Leninist, Acid Anarchist, Lithium Libertarians, Neoliberal Ambien Crack Cocaine Conservatives, Ketamine Kosmonauts, Molly Maoist, everyone seems to be Wild 'N Out!

Maybe the Discordian attempt to immanentize the Eschaton was just a Lil too successful?

Famously boisterous streets have gone quiet, I can hear the birds starting a riot from my window, sitting still in the city of angels. I come to free the moon. I can feel the coming storm of virus wavelets, everyone is searching for the Anti-Virus, perhaps Covid is Quantum Phenomenon, perhaps we should ponder before we burn down all the trees.

People and all living things exist in the universe and are made of matter and can't stop changing and are unknowable by others, and that DNA is an alien virus, turned previously immortal creatures into separate genders, limited by death.

The quest for authentic existence,
the scorn of the inauthentic,
the beauty of connection to others,
the pain of separation,
the problem of how to meet death
of how to live life and the experience of
time which brings us nearer death

Bored stiff spinning along this
shiny blue marble into the abyss

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