“Dost thou love live? Then do not squander time, for that’s the stuff life is made of” – Ben Franklin
Stayed in bed ‘til 9 today. PM.
And it’s not even the weekend.
Didn’t bathe. Or shave. There’s nothin’ I’m seekin’.
There were no friends to drop by. Just got high. And ate pie.
It’s not that I hate life, I just can’t make, time.
Not often I write of this. No wife or kids.
Just live with the parents. I had a dream, but didn’t share it.
Life without merit. A stick without the carrot.
The things to do to make-me-rich, are over-ruled by my lazi-ness.
Do nothing happily, other than apathy.
Sad to see, such a tragedy.
Lazy
Lethargic
Listless
Languid
Lackadaisical
Listlessness.
Sluggishness, idleness
Disinterested.
Hopelessly supine
Woefully disinterested.
Unconcerned
Only perturbed, if I have to do something
Inclined to do nothing!
It’s not that I hate myself.
I just don’t know how to create wealth.
Sloth. Under the weather; on the shelf.
I understand the thrills.
Watching 7 again, with Sommerset & Mills.
Luckily, I don’t abuse pills.
Just stare out, my windowsill.
A-Motivated by the indo smoke.
Whooped
Preoccupied
Introverted
Distant, before distancing!
Not really listening.
"Smackin' a baby, at a christening."
|