Fucking bored...

Man sleeping, in dreams he sees a spirit and awakes, to find the very same spirit in his chambers looking at him but gliding away and out of his room. Man: oh spirit, art thou but a fake image ingraved in the back of my tumescent skull, ney, thou art as real as the breeze that at this moment dries the sweat pouring from my chest and forehead, if only, if only my ethereal friend could you but whisper the purpose of thou come to me. If only thou could whisper but a little stronger, for these ears of mine cannot hear but the whispers of the world. Oh, hang the whisper, scream, shout it from the top of your lungs and direct the sound into my ears curving thou wise lips. Scream. Shout. Yell. Sing thou purpose of intent. If thou shalln't have it any other way, write it on a piece of paper and leave it on my doorstep at the breaking of the sky, let me know, I must know, for things such as these happen but for a reason, and it is that reason the heart of that, that troubles my fist-shaped and blooddy organ. Provide me with warm words so I can put an end to this grey parade of cold thoughts that art indeed now marching around and about in my mind. Oh, if thou had but an ounce of that long forgotten currency, compassion, thou would tell me the meaning of this unannounced visit at once. Perhaps, since thou lacks the propper vocal cords and such, thou cannot speak, hence, our predicament, if only there was a way so that I could hear what soundless words roll off your tongue just now. Well, granted there's one way, but one way only, and my heart does no dare to even contemplate it. Allthough, now that my mind begins pondering on the subject, it is but a certain fate for us, all living things, all of us who were belched from the loigns of this world. And I do feel, if I may say so, more than slightly curious to learn what hides behind that firghtening veil, that dark and impenetrable shade that cannot be pierced until one has parted from one's body. Yes, there's but one path, one road I can follow, and tred it, I intend to. Thou, silver, soon to be red, blade shall do the job you were made for, cut, cut my flesh without remorse or guilt, cut and let me stroll out of this world the same way I came in, covered in blood, by blood began, by blood ended, what a suitable finale for this ever so pleasant journey. Farewell eyes, hands, hair, fingers and toes, legs and knees, elbows and knuckles and wirsts, neck, and lungs, and nails, and heart, and kidneys and liver, and veins, and spit, and nose, and mouth, and face, and eyebrows, and chin and shins, and ancles, and feet. Farewell to all else, I, due to lack of pacience, do not name. Throat slit, darkness, pitch-black darkness. Where art thou spirit? Where art thou friend? Oh, there art thou, tell me now that we've become as one, tell me so I can know, and do not waste even one second with needless introductions, or embellishments of any kind. Spirit: Well, mate I'm awfully sorry, but you have thrown your life away. Man: Yes, my heart wasn't in politics, it never was, I always wanted to be a writer, my wretched father pushed me into that sordid world, where old, greedy, grey, lusty, insolent excuses of men decide the fates of millions upon millions, driven only by the malice and greed that festers in their hearts. So tell me what is it that I should pour my heart and soul into, writing yes? No, there's no need for more words, I see now that, that was the purpose of thou unannounced visit. No more words neeb be spoken but this, show me the quickest way back and I'll see to walk it as quick as this air-like body of mine can. Spirit: Uhm, no mate, forgive me, but you've misunderstood me, I walked into your dream for no other reason driving me but... boredom, after you saw me the very first thing I desired was to slip away swiftly, but at the same moment I was in that whole process of sliping, you saw me back in the real world, which I was told humans could never do, except when they were getting ready to embark themselves upon the last voyage, ey. But ey, I guess they were quite right weren't they?.- chuckles-. Man: What art thou saying? Art thou saying what I think thou art saying? Spirit: I'm afraid so, good sir. Man: So, I'm dead?. Spirit: Yes, terribly sorry sir, terribly terribly sorry sir. Man: But then, what were thou trying to sound out, back in my chambers? Spirit: Nothing sir. Man: Tell me, or I'll... I don't know what I'll do, but I asure you it won't be pleasant. Spirit: I said, "don't mind me, just passing by, I'll be going on then, sorry to wake you". Man: I'm dead, because you were FUCKING BORED!. Spirit: What happened with the whole thou thing, ey? Man: the whole "thou thing" I reserved it for those who deserve respect and being treated in a certain manner, those who require said treatment do not cause somebody else's death, because they were FUCKING BORED!