…I am BORED OUT OF MY SKULL. And this is not something I say lightly because to me it’s the word “boredom” just shouldn’t really be said. There’s always something to do! Reading, music, video games, creating…but I truly am. I spent all day yesterday and today playing Tales of Berseria on my computer. Now I’m just waiting until 7 to go down and heat up some food. My brother has been at it again. He was up all freaking night playing Zelda, he woke up early AGAIN and has literally not moved all day long. I find myself trying my hardest not to go down there because it’s annoying. I think my mom feels similarly but she’s at work now. My dogs are bored too. I can play games all day long but even I start to feel that emptiness, that mind-numbing-pointless realization, no matter how good the game is. My body starts to complain because my muscles have seen minimal movement and I can feel the muscle fibers complaining. I like being content in life, because if you aren’t content then you’re never happy, but there’s a fine line there…It’s true that I’ve succeeded in all my life goals, and it’s true that I am hindered by money as to what I can do as I try to save anything I can, but I can certainly not be happy when every week and every weekend there is nothing to look forward to except video games, church, video games, grocery store, then work. And worse: all kept upstairs in my room unable (or unwilling!) to venture elsewhere in the house. It’s like living in the dorms!!! I was always wandering outside because I had to get away!

What an awful feeling it is to think I’ve wasted an entire day.

And unfortunately for me, my drawing abilities seem to be missing.

UUUUUUGH. I need some excitement! Some adventure! My book is good, but my body wants to do something, see something, learn something! I’ll just have to make up my mind to go do something on my own then. Not too expensive. Ugh I hate all these fetters: money, companionship, dogs, the fear of physical  injury lest I miss any work. Me, the one who loathes any constraints of any kind. I must impose them on myself otherwise I go overboard and regret it, but it makes for such a dull time, a dull life.

I’ve become like an old blade: dull, dusty, tarnished, only a shadow of my former glory, and without a hand to rely on, stuck in one place.



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