Catharsis | ×

Boredom

When my ennui reaches that point

Where slamming my head on a wall,

Chewing at my nails until I strike bone,

Pacing about like my limbs are on fire,

Ransacking my bookshelf to arrange it,

And tearing all my hairs out to shreds

As I proceed to count them, one by one

All seems like ideal enjoyable hobbies

To tentatively preoccupy my wasted time.

(P.S. And yes, shooting at the wall as well.)

~*~

(a/n: why yes, the last line was, in fact, a Sherlock reference, because now I know what a high functioning sociopath slash consulting detective feels like after the end of a case. Bored!)