confess, I'm bored ...

Facebook 確是消耗精神意志，三幾分鐘晃遊，一岔岔到天涯海角，時間如此蒸發掉，得了些資訊、小道消息、八卦是非，然而日積月累滿眼見得最多的，積非成是許多錯白字、歪義句子。漸漸也就，懷疑自己——如果他們都沒錯，那麼從小珍之重之的，所為何？

阿某和阿某某連 fb入門戶口都唔開番個，也許真是明智。

這日天灰濛，水霧籠罩，看什麼都心不在焉，讀點 John Berryman 吧，ah，恍如隔世，his very many dream songs，眼所停留的，依然是，那三幾首，老故舊——

Dream Song 14: Life, friends, is boring
John Berryman  

Life, friends, is boring. We must not say so.
After all, the sky flashes, the great sea yearns,
we ourselves flash and yearn,
and moreover my mother told me as a boy
(repeatedly) 'Ever to confess you're bored
means you have no  

Inner Resources.' I conclude now I have no
inner resources, because I am heavy bored.
Peoples bore me,
literature bores me, especially great literature,
Henry bores me, with his plights & gripes
as bad as achilles,  

Who loves people and valiant art, which bores me.
And the tranquil hills, & gin, look like a drag
and somehow a dog
has taken itself & its tail considerably away
into mountains or sea or sky, leaving
behind: me, wag.