Boredom is the modern human condition.
It's 1 2 3 and 1 2 3, the repetition of death.
Death without sound but a heartbeat six feet under.
It's 1 0 and 1 0, the code of the machines.
Hands and feet like gears of an engine.

Boredom is the new sex.
It's entertainment of the same.
It's like plain congee for breakfast, tasteless.
I have no regrets for a different life: I do not feel, I feel too much.

Don't lock me here, because I will be okay.
I have lost my touch, I cannot say no.
I cannot see beyond my office window into the far country of hidden lands.
Why do you tease me? I am happy with me.