The Joyful Halls of Ennui

Days come and go in the halls of Ennui.  People come and go from the halls of Ennui.  Most people go and never return. It seems in the halls, life is a succession of people saying good bye. Trust is a vulgarity in these halls of Ennui. As a result, it is bitter, empty and lonely.  Better to be lonely than to be deceived.

                                       My Life Is A Succession Of People Saying Good Bye

At one time it seemed the possibilities were endless and the skies were wide open. Unfortunately the skies imploded and the walls caved in. What was left were the joyous, energetic halls of Ennui. Repetition is nice, repetition is dull, repetition is numbing. The daily tasks required to remain in the halls are suffocating both physically and mentally. The halls of Ennui are continual, very similar to a maze with no escape. Each day spent trudging through the corridors, searching for what? Most likely a way to survive another day.  There are no doors or rooms to flee for safety in the hallways.  It's just the perpetual drone of hollowness crushing the soul, buoyancy and imagination.

                                                                     The Logical Song

                                                         There's No Way Out Of Here

SYLVIA PLATH

Ennui

Tea leaves thwart those who court catastrophe,
designing futures where nothing will occur:
cross the gypsy’s palm and yawning she
will still predict no perils left to conquer.
Jeopardy is jejune now: naïve knight
finds ogres out-of-date and dragons unheard
of, while blasé princesses indict
tilts at terror as downright absurd.

The beast in Jamesian grove will never jump,
compelling hero’s dull career to crisis;
and when insouciant angels play God’s trump,
while bored arena crowds for once look eager,
hoping toward havoc, neither pleas nor prizes
shall coax from doom’s blank door lady or tiger.