Existential Angst

Anticipating the anticipation,
Anticipating the living-life-on-the-edge days.
The ones you hear about
Or you think you’ve heard about.

You, you’ve fallen into monotony,
An inescapable feeling of restless contentment.

Some call it depression,
You call it boredom.
They’re one in the same,
Except boredom has a much less negative connotation;
And a much shorter life-span.

Mostly, it depends on your age;
The children are bored,
The adults are depressed.

Filling days with self-innovated anxiety,
The kind that didn’t always exist,
Or you don’t think it always existed.

A drive to be taken by storm
Overwhelmed.
Engulfed.
Something to shake you out of this trance you have been stifled by.

Like a visitor from afar,
You continue to sit in that hotel room,
Anticipating the anticipation of travel.

While you glance
Between the alarm clock,
The room service menu,
The T.V. Guide.

Bored.
Depressed.
Anticipating the anticipation of living.

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