Boredom Is Empty

About people who go insane because they have nothing to do and no one around them

I'm constantly distracted
By all the things in my life
Questions, answers, reactions
For myself no more left of time

But when that time comes for me
I sit and think for hours on end
About what happened to me, all the things
I can work through my emotions and no longer pretend

When I've had enough time
And I just sit in boredom
I still continue to strongly deny
Because I don't want to return to my life of before

And then in trains and circles of my thoughts
My reality seems twisted and in distort
I start to question the ways of life
Traditions, cultures, religions and fights

And to the edges of thoughts I go
My life no longer seems my own
I'm watching as a third-person
My life has stopped, but that I still won't mention

I start to go completely off my mind
So stuck to reality, but trying to find
To find something, only to realize there is nothing
And yet still I continue, desperate for anything

I start to question, am I insane?
Is my entire life a film in a fake window pane?
And yet by asking that very question
I confirmed that I am not yet mental

And then I run back to my old life
And pick up the shattered pieces of my mind
Back there I will never return
To the darkness, the nothingness I cannot be lured