I love boredom?

I love boredom

The joy of pale choices
And no pressure
To decide

The stillness of time
To breathe
And notice the strange patterns
Of sticky cobwebs
High in the chandelier
(Well, light anyways
I just love the poetry
Of chandeliers)

Boredom seems to lead to desperate poetry

The freedom to amble
Senseless values
Senseless thoughts
In senseless time frames

I love the boredom
Of waiting for excitement
The height of anticipation
For any excitement
Is priceless

And the special wonder of boredom

That old man down the street
Who always seems to be mowing the lawn
Digging his garden
Pruning the roses
Suddenly becomes
A special source of avid fascination

What a boring life he must lead
A life of nothingness

But wait
What am I saying?