Prologue? A new beginning?

I waste my time -and still I love it.

And I waste yours too, but I deny it.

And, again, I begin the same story within

And the same cover outside.

'Yes', 'no', 'and', 'but' mess me up

And my lines too, because there's nothing

That stands for a beginning

And there's no such thing as a close-up.

All of me is much the same.

I live now, and ease the pain

But the pain is nothing real

Because, why?, I cannot feel.