• [Enter HAMLET in a sulken melancholy demeanor]

    Hamlet: Agony! Agony doth I screech in this cruel tirade
    Of emotionless nothing from whence my pain sprung forth.
    Why must I suffer such cruel a fate?
    What is this melancholy tune that which serenades at my heart,
    In these somber notes, this hollow song
    Which sews the melody of emptiness in my soul?
    Alas, the fiend of boredom hath perched above my brow,
    Filling my heart with emptiness
    and dragging me down the path to nevermore.
    What elixir, what remedy, in all the realm
    Be Potent enough to rid me of this aliment,
    Free me form the confines of my own forlorn?

    The gods doth laugh in mockery of my torment,
    Make sport of my fate
    But to the heavens I beseech thee all!
    Spare my sanity; deshroud my soul that yearns for peace
    Remove this depressing visage you’ve placed upon me,
    And let me live undaunted!

    O the cruel paradox of boredom;
    It is procured when one hath nothing to do,
    And yet the will power to partake in jovial deeds
    That shall vanquish this ailment
    Doth it strip me of aswell
    How doth one fight this perpetual madness?
    boredom hath corrupted my taste buds,
    My foods now turn to ash at the touch of my tongue
    and no longer doth a trinket tickle my fancy;
    no longer doth my Nintendo giveth me pleasure,
    in all the world of Warcraft no solace can be found.
    The songs of mirth, the melodies I once loved
    Gives me no relief.
    So here doth I lie, confined in my chambers of solitude,
    With naught a thing to do.
    Nothing aches more than the boredom of the soul,
    I give my kingdom, my crown,
    All for just something to do…