inspired dullness

It is so easy to get used to things.

Laze sits fatly- below me, around me. Cushioning the fall, so to speak, as I settle into its beanbag-ish comfort, sinking in. Sometimes my sloth rises, waddles about and stares pointlessly at the walls- the nothingness they have to offer. Such enchantment, I tell you, this being at a loose end is. Then, after a numb-like walk-around that has as many non-thoughts as this sentence does hyphens, I recline in a nonsensical combination of creativity and dullness- recline in a rocking chair from the past. As its silent, and silently indulgent, lullaby gently rocks me, I know some more inspiration has gone in its own sleep.

Cheery, aren’t I.