'Doing nothing' is something ridiculous and to one who has felt the propensity and routine to be the malignant growth of time, social intercourse as more hallucination may pine for a real existence of doing nothing. This thought emerges at times out of a sadness in being not able to discover I significance of presence. Doing nothing partakes in the dismissal of malism. Or maybe nothingness, where the activity is empty, could discover a place upon the static procedures of oblivious personality where imagery, expressionism, and surrealism question the criticalness of this target crazy reality. so the excruciating idea of not having the capacity to accomplish something remains a concocted lack of definition in one's brain.
