So the title reads.
I guess boredom shows some sort of technical failure; the way this playthrough is going reminds you about something forgotten in world III.
But when I think about it a bit more it’s pretty clear why it is this way.
I mean boredom could be seen as the introduction, really. It’s the crease between chapters.
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I just don’t have the energy to turn the page, is what I whisper.
A lot of cultures think dreams are the gateway to the Divine. And lately I can’t be bothered to fall asleep. Does this count as avoiding God?
I thought about writing a little fan fiction here and see where it develops, to reflect whatever synopsis of living I’ve attached.
No, boredom is easy to solve. There are so many ways to kick the can down the road.
The number of shows I’ve consumed and yet left little impression shows that fact.
I like to think that life is a dream, and so maybe I’m left a little unimpressed at the moment because the dream is fading away.
I just wouldn’t be sure what to do with myself. Not that anything has to be done.
This sort of boredom finds itself in the systems one is a part of. Most of you reading this are a part of the production systems that sustain us. Maybe I can get on disability but then you’re under the systems of bureaucrats that’ll snatch your sustenance at whatever fancy.
This boredom creeps in because there’s a ton of spindle trailing and the kite is only 200 feet above when we’re supposed to thread it through hoola-hoops, gather as many rings as you need.
Once I do X, then my life begins! but I know this is passing right now.
I know the next steps… but I don’t know if I care enough to follow through. Maybe I need more pain and crushing walls before advancing to the next room. Chemtrails to wear as flannel, nano-aluminum for eyelash erosion until spotless and blind.
(Be careful what you wish for)
(Be careful what you wish for)
(Be careful what you wish for)
“straight from my heart”
Solving a day of boredom is catnip simple – but solving the next one onto the next and the next shows something missing.
Boredom seems to be the state left when you absolutely separate yourself and you forget loving for a bit.
Boredom seems to be the state left when you know the other paths but you’re too exhausted to go check them out.
Boredom comes as a splinter which wedges deeper with every bandage applied.
When you close your eyes you could make a whole new story and involve yourself in it.
Right now we’re both in this pseudonymous ground of a story; a fugue we’re both stuck in for this moment.
I wonder if you like how far your site has come and what you’re going to do next about it. Maybe it comes second nature for you; maybe I could learn a thing or two from you.
How does this story end? What’s the climax?
No matter, we’re focused on the other story, the one behind your eyelids.
Boredom is finally enjoying some licorice.
How one-dimensional I am!
That’s fine. More often than not we love to mistake misery for depth; the superficial are the kings.
There’s no conversation without a vexing spirit. The day is fine and that’s that.
Who am I?
I don’t recognize myself. I’m not sure who this person is.
They appear to have the same memories but something switched. Something’s off.
It’s like this one is now a different world.
Not without taste!
I’m not a monkey.
This reads so stilted, hopping from construction site to site. The crossbeams submerge in your eyes.
Boredom is always temporary. I know for a fact you and I haven’t seen ANYTHING yet.
Earlier today I came to the conclusion that any sort of attachment is what destroys… which kneejerks me into wondering what I am attached to.
Do you think yourself as a “voice of a generation” at all? Are you the mascot?
I’m not sure if I could fit that bill out of bashfulness or because of the neurodivergence and self-imposed isolation.
I wouldn’t even be sure what to say if I had that speakerphone letting you know what it meant to be here, for how long – I don’t know since I don’t even seem to be the same person as that which dots my memories.
It’s all imagined anyway. And I’ll imagine more and more until you spite it!
Maybe I’ll just continue writing fleeting thoughts here until I close the browser for good. Let the day be enough thereof.
Let the bread flush down the toilet. And the seagulls cry along the isle bridge. Picking up some pearled clams.
Smush some insects and think about if you’ll be annoying enough to be smushed by those higher in the food chain. What sort of bargaining chip can we have if we treat those so far below us with such indifference?
Each ant holding a force of life about them to extinguish at first sight.
What is one to do if we accidentally bite higher beings?
Boredom is like finally exiting the amusement park after going on all the rides 50 times. Just spent. Spent. What else? Adrenaline is gone. Confetti litters the passageway back. Smell of ketchup in the air, giftshops attendants calling for an unbelievable deal that you must take right now if you know what’s good for you. 50% off!
The trolley takes you back to where you park, where you did park, why did you park you wonder. Jumbled noggin.
The hotel district I did walk around in, along the apartments too, and the hallway emptiness felt like a home, or a reasonable expectation fulfilled. And benches with a couple of cigarette butts remind you how we sustain ourselves against the sunset.
Boredom is forgetting how to laugh.
Even if I could inhale some helium and other 6-syllabled words I don’t know if I could handle the come down; it’s why there’s no use bothering.
But we both got our choice of meals to get high off of, maybe.
Real tired; really just avoiding that which led me to this stupor to begin with; a benign tumor of an assumption thinking that another site had something mildly interesting to host for once but nothing ever sincerely good to know happens.
Ah! Enjoy the peace, why don’t you?!