Birthed of boredom

Just another collection of random thoughts birthed of boredom.  Digitized frustration bathed in light.  A blinking cursor, impatient, ever waiting for a prompt.  A heart-beat, almost, of phonemes made morphemes made more.  Like flesh to a skeleton it will grow, collecting to itself meaning.  For now though, it has yet to congeal.  It is yet simply idle cognition made visual.  Not following any conventions to speak of, it meanders, avoiding the point, avoiding conclusion.  It remains, behind a screen and trapped in another, waiting.  Waiting for attention to return, for the rekindling.


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