To cure boredom, I pretend that I am on the stern of a derelict yacht drifting toward the imminent destruction of the falls; and that if I don't take the helm from my brain, currently driving on its monotonous autopilot, I will surely perish. This jolts me from my complacency and reminds me that I am the captain of my vessel. "Arr," I bellow, "ye shalln't take me alive, ye treacherous current."
Then I remind myself that I'm actually just in my room, staring at a blank wall, and I find a book with lots of pictures, because I like colors.
Then I remind myself that I'm actually just in my room, staring at a blank wall, and I find a book with lots of pictures, because I like colors.
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