Is Futility Really This Bad?

How awful could boredom be, assuming everyone gets a few unappetizing meals a day, too much sleep, and a flashing, pestering awareness of mortality?   The professionals may speak of clinical depression, poets might enjoy saying 'melancholia,' but 'boredom' is the least judgmental term for being alive and not too fucking lively.   When bored, one wishes to have fun, and isn't having it.

 There is no law, yet, against  saying aloud that you are bored, depressed or melancholic, though for the last thirty years there were consequences.   "You should get some professional help," people might say, as if everything will be just fine between you and them if you do, and will remain hopeless if you don't.   But once people peg you as a bore, they don't start liking you better anytime soon.  Again, this suggests people are what they are, and attempts to change don't help.  Silence, in a state of robotic compliance, is often one's best modus operandi.

But what of happiness and being sociable?  Doesn't boredom negate all that?   Fuckin' A.

Just because I feel like shit right now, there's  no reason for you to be bored, angry or sad.  Have yourself a ball.  I've been at least this down in the dumps before, and bounced back.   Next week, I'm going to blog like a regular Norman Vincent Peale, every syllable reeking of positive thinking and love for daily life.  Two weeks hence, I'm going to blog of mania.   Now that's fun.

While you are still having fun (and I'm not) please take time to enjoy my video cartoon, "Captain Firegroin."