Posted by spritzophrenia on November 24, 2010
Day three and the pain is not ending. I have a fear of being bored. It may be because I’m a head person, I live in my mind, as opposed to heart people who live in their emotions and gut people who live in their bodies.
I have many interesting books, but none of them appeal. There is television. Ugh. So banal I want to throw something. I have movies recorded. Yes, but I don’t want THOSE ones. Surfing the net just yields more tedium. Music? Meh. I could go out or talk to friends but I don’t have any money, and more tellingly, I can’t be bothered. Write? I have a killer writer’s block.
Happygirl suggests I go for a walk. But then I’d be left alone with my head, and my thoughts. I want to fill my head so that I don’t have to think. I don’t want to confront whatever horrors are waiting for me in my imagination. I want to get drunk or high to get out of myself, but I have no wine.
According to Schopenhauer, “The two enemies of human happiness are pain and boredom”. He was a grumpy old git anyway. I recall the rich and jaded Marie Antoinette said, “Nothing tastes”.
I see boredom as similar to depression. (Perhaps it IS depression.) It’s a change of perspective in myself, it’s not real. Nothing objective has changed in the world, therefore it’s my view of things that’s changed. For example, with a quick search I found the following:
* A fascinating and scary interview with a Mexican hit-man.
* According to this article, quoting the NY Times, US Corporations have just posted the biggest profits ever. When do the rest of us see the trickle down?
* Or for entertainment, an Indian teen sings “Club Can’t Handle Me”. One comment suggests the club won’t even let him in.
See? I bet you found at least one of those worthwhile. I can recognise with my intellect that these, and many other things are worthy of comment and attention. Yet my feelings tell me otherwise.
I’m conscious that a great many people in the world would love the luxury of being bored. I feel selfish and indulgent. But I can’t help what I feel. Perhaps it’s a spiritual malaise, but what does that mean? Do I have to just wait this out, or is there something I can do?
I wonder if connecting with nature will help me. Yes, I will try that. At this point, dear reader, we leave our author sitting alone in the garden, enjoying the sun and sifting soil through his hands.
[Edit: The dirt smells like cat piss. Typical.]
Have you ever felt like this? What do you do when you’re bored?
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Iggy Pop | Im Bored
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