When life gets too BORING

When life gets Boring 

Classics tied around your head. Make it more complicated , when we say that life is boring. Who says it ain't. It is at days of monotonous evening with no one to chat and nights with no one to talk to. There are days when I am done with reading , like there are morning when I am done with sleeping. I don't feel like reading or sleeping anymore. But still the thought or even the attempt to go out makes me more weak.

 The glues of finding myself lonely again in the crowd distort me, I would choose staying alone in my room rather than feeling empty outside on the streets of cacophony with no one to depend on. I hate the voices of repeated ways of doing the same or similar that looks loathsome. I am at times done with sipping the perfect coffee or watching the perfect show. I am done talking to my so called best friends(though I have none) , I am done at times. I feel the need not to sleep . The will to eat even dies down, the will to open or even close my eyes departs. The charisma of chirping birds or clear sky closes.

The necessary will to complete or even leave the task I commenced dies deep down. Who knows what I become when monotony mulls over.My mind goes missing something that I don't even know. The charm of life goes. The swamp of dust is all I could see. The delays of daily struggle stills. The will, the wish, the wonder dies. The smiles, the sadness , the self of someone culls my mind.

 

Seclusion used to look good back then, crowd used to look better some way in the end. But now I stand in the middle, in the middle of now where. I stand on the stillness of silences of you and me. As you bring back my energy and I push you charm till  eternity . So now I sit  where you used to sit and sleep where you used to sit. I wrap your blanket around me and put my head on your pillow to feel the same or even near to it. But neither I feel same or  sane.

There are tragedies and triumphs but now I feel the disgust of the days I never got to spend near you. The newness of your existence never fades in the pioneering pedestal. There are stories that are sad but this ain't one of them. There are stories that are incomplete, this is neither that one. It feels complete even remaining undone. It has to be done this way. This way or no way we could expect you to surpass, same way like the classics dies down to glory, you died down with the will to do more the next morning. 

classics come with the class that are turbulent enough to make the monotony move into the circles of charm. I know the charm has died down because we all lack it. Like the voices we don't want sometimes are voices we want to hear the most at days when dust falls on us. As I said classics can't be culled, their voices can be lulled. 

The truth stands the same near to the timing that now life is usually boring and the urge to celebrate has demised as the cattles have burned in which I used to make tea for you you drank the last cup of tea that morning . I am glad I made that for you because now the teas I make are tasteless because I don't get to make them for you anymore.