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  • Boredom is a killer. Watch out Granny Smith and Popeye : it is the worm in your apple and the poisonous juices in your spinach. It rolls itself up under your shirt, and bulges like a hunchback’s lump. It makes you grow a third eye in the in-between of the eyebrows and fall asleep on the noon sky. Your heart turns into plum and prune spread, your fists melt like candle wax under a licking flame, and you are left, exhausted by all this heap of nothing, and white like chalk, thirsty like a horse in the desert. Yes, boredom claimed another victim
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