I heard from some random fucking day time talk show, some tidbit of information that'll be stuck in my brain until the end of eternity, that boredom is actually repressed anger. So when you're bored, you're actually mad you have nothing to do. Interesting concept. I'm sure someone got paid millions for that theory but in fact I'm indifferent to the fact I have nothing to do. I'm so bored in fact, I'm actually analyzing the meaning of words....in a published online journal.....where no one will ever fucking read it....or know I exist. Wow. I got alot accomplished yesterday. Cleaned everything I could think of and started out this morning with the same ambition only to wind up with a splitting headache in the afternoon. A dull ache from my shoulders to the back of my head. Tension headache or maybe I sprained something. Who knows. I would so rather be high than sober. I just feel better. Everything's fuzzy, not literally of course, it just feels like I'm in my own private don't-give-a-fuck cloud. Where everything is rosy and shines a lil brighter than usual. Musical rhythms sound deeper, dialogue takes on new meaning, and I feel everything but am in a constant state of bliss. How could reality compete with that? Of course I just feel like eating and watching t.v sleeping or fucking but that's beside the point. I'd rather be fuzzy headed and happily doing nothing than clear and sober with nothing that I want to do. Ah well...perhaps he'll turn his phone on soon and my high will return. Maybe I'll find something else to fill my days with besides endless housework and monotonous trips to the store. I feel like I'm wading in slow circles through quicksand, and every year I sink a lil deeper. It's up to my knees now, by 40 it'll be up to my chin, 60 my nose, and then I'll suffocate and my candle of life will be forever snuffed out. I think....way too much.
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