Boredom is released by my subconscious in the form of powerful fantasies. Once the daydreams were my paracetamol, now they are my heroin.
Boredom is as if I'm walking through water instead of air. I can do it. It makes me stronger. I'd just love to run and jump again.
Boredom is easy and flows without a tick or a tock, yet I look into its far horizon all the same for any sign of positive change.
Boredom has an ebb and flow as if by the pull of a gentle moon.
In those moments of boredom I am a ship upon a sun-warmed sea, sails happily relaxed upon the mast.
Boredom is that invitation for the brain to play, to let the self soak into a moment and see the richness in the minute subtlety life offers. So I let it in, allow my thoughts to float without direction, and soon enough they find paths to run down, new paths rather than the same old worries that can play over and over each day. That's when ideas come... and that's when boredom ends.
Boredom expands as a nothing, as if one could reach out into the world and the hand would return empty. It is a painful disconnect, a stalling of passions that need their time in the sun.