Boredom – The Heavy Duty Killer

Today I am bored stiff.  Stiffer than an hundred year-old corpse.  Though mind you, an hundred year-old corpse is probably all dust.

I am bored shitless, shirtless and shiftless.  I want a job and every time I seem close to getting one I either get really ill or I don’t get the job.  All I can successfully do (by comparison) is volunteer.  It is a psycho’s somatic factor.  And it comes about through Boredom, and possibly the ennui for  the proffered possibilities.

My career, or any hopes of one, is all down the drain and I know it; and cannot summon the artistry to pretend, far less to believe, otherwise.

Art, performance art is my thing, though I also like to paint and so on, but I have taken all sorts of jobs and work (except prostitution) to get on and get by and get ahead.

Truly?  I get on then am shoved off.   I get by, and “by-and-by” I get moved on; and even as I try to get ahead I get passed over.

So now,I have given up.   Yet I have to keep trying for the sake of the “Benefits” and because of the Heavy Duty Killer.  Boredom.

Bored off my ass and tits, my drooping mammary glands that have seen firmer days.

Remember those days?  When grass was green and…….

 You’d get up in the morning  gung-ho for the day even though you’d gone to sleep late, your head  teeming with ideas and optimism, your blood full of alcohol and your system turning over at full speed from a quick lay?

 

Try to remember…….

When going into work was something to look forward to and the pay-check was a bonus moreso than a necessity ’cause you knew how to enjoy work and have fun and not give a toss about stuff…..?

And compare it with now.

Back then, the “now”, was something quickly gone in a snap of the fingers.

Now, it is something spent languishing in an endless spasm of languor and lassitude.

A heavy lump of Boredom sets in and upon us.   Inertia.  An object of weight that is not formed of regret, but rather of emptiness.

 Of a lack of complete satisfaction in the here and now.

I know I have no pension to speak of.  I know my health is not like it was 27 years ago.   I know I can’t dance from Dusk ’til Dawn, get two hours kip and bounce up ready to sock it to the world.

I know my hair is turning grey, but, in the here and now, I still have the zip and zap and a modicum of pap (or is it sap?) and still would like the excitement and upliftment of not just functioning, but living.

Of having that something in life, apart from life itself which is worth savouring.  Not love.  I have, fortunately, love and a love.

No. Rather that ‘something extra’ as Halifax* would say, that one used to get from the job, the career.  The X factor of all X factors once  the basic boxes have been ticked.

Still have the vim and va-va-voom, but no where to expend it?   The Heavy Duty Killer sets in on you -BOREDOM-

Unlike anything youth can imagine.

 

If only I had something to DO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

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