Boredom

My name is known by most. The most people don't like me. I drive you insane, slowly, but surely. I drag you down. You try to find a release from me, but I take the fun out of even the most exciting things. I surround you like a scratchy blanket in the winter. You don't want me, but you give up in looking for different one, a better one, and keep me instead. Inviting me to stay a while.

This poem is about: 
Me

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