Boredom is a slow cancer. Like the a thousand drops from a cavern ceiling it eats away at my sanity. The topics of speech are endless and yet we've already fallen silent. The sun rises and sets and I go on with my day waiting. Unpleasant feelings crawl into dark cracks where hope once nested. High hopes and even higher expectations crumble quickly in the face of nothing. Nothing is really more powerful than anything. It drives strong men mad and the meek to scream. There's nothing left but a thousand scenes playing violently pornographic reminders of our own personal hell. They said nothing would prepare me for combat but what I wasn't prepared for was the lack there of. Wake up, eat, smoke, type, smoke, read, smoke, talk, smoke, smoke some more, eat, smoke, snack, work out, eat, smoke, masturbate, smoke, masturbate, smoke, talk, type, masturbate, masturbate, smoke, masturbate, the pack's empty, go to sleep, and repeat.

Day in and day out it's all the same. Bill Murray's got nothin' on this...