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Boredom

Details: Written by Pistol Pete; Created on 2008-04-02; Hits: 667

The song remains the same.

Boredom’s an affliction that affects all sentient beings, perhaps even liberals. There are different types of boredom. There’s the kind that comes from waiting on a counter-person in a car parts store. You might get a glimpse of one coming towards the 30 foot counter with a dozen unmanned registers, only to watch him pick up a phone and yak for 15 minutes about some guy’s throwout bearing for a vintage BMW. “Sorry, you’ll have to consult the factory. And that particular one was bombed in 1944”. All I wanted was a radiator hose that I could see hanging on the wall behind the stupid bastard!

Then, there’s the kind of boredom that comes from watching a Meryl Streep movie; any of them, (except ‘Death Becomes Her’ with Goldie Hawn). In ‘Out of Africa’ the mind screams for her and Robert Redford to be pounced on by lions, their entrails ripped from their bodies, heads severed and flesh stripped away! (All in the opening credits.) Then, it’s on to popping another beer and clicking the remote until smoke pours from the “channel up” button. The boredom never stops.

There’s boredom with jobs. Mine isn’t anymore, or less boring than say, some guy who watches a petrie dish for 12 years waiting for a ‘thing’ to grow in it. “Hey!! There’s a thing in here!!” Management material if I ever saw one.

I use to design stuff: Mechanical, electrical, spaceships, nuclear douche’ bags. You know, regular shit. Not anymore. Now I wait for something to miraculously appear before me while I’m surfing the net, looking at the news or some story about a fool that porked a hot apple pie because he saw it on a TV show. Well, maybe that is news. God, I hope I don’t get that bored! Maybe shove a weasel up my ass, but NO HOT APPLE PIES!! Those should be kept for Sunday dinner with the folks. And if you see me squirming, it’s just the weasel trying get revenge. “Pass the potatoes, please?”

I used to like building models, tanks in particular. Now, if I can’t open the box, take it out fully assembled, place it on the carpet and it starts rolling across the floor shooting holes in the sheet rock, I’m not interested. Too boring to have to spend 50+ man-hours building it. I want instant gratification! I’m tired of waiting. On anything!

I played music for years. I’ve got a guitar and really love it. We understand each other. But for a while now, I’ve had no desire to play it much. This has happened a few times and as recently as a year ago. Boredom is not just from the mind, but also from the heart. My heart hasn’t been into anything creative for quite awhile. I sometimes think it’s been sold south to hang with the other shackled darkies that roam my soul. Maybe soon I’ll get the urge to pick her back up again and fill myself with her words that only I can hear. Or, maybe I’ll just let her sit until some archeologist from the 23rd century discovers her as the petrified remains of some boring ancient culture. “Professor Snick, look! Another piece of evidence of some boring ancient culture! And there’s one of the inhabitants still sitting in his chair not doing a damned thing!” Ah…can it only get better? Being part of a museum exhibit in the Popalude region of future Earth? Snot-nosed, genetically engineered carpet crawlers who haven’t seen real grass except behind glass; never tasted a steak because the cows got unionized and took over Montana; never shot a gun because…there aren’t any! Bastards!

I used to draw and paint, too. I haven’t done any for years, now. The last painting I did was really fun to do. It’s a surreal scene of my thoughts over a period of about 6 months. It has meaning to me, but I’m the only one who will ever know what they are (sort of like client-attorney privilege). I’d like to do another one but I have no idea what to do and I don’t want to wait on it to get done. Again: instant gratification! I’M BORED!!!

Sometimes things come together to fill the void of cobwebs in the brain and sometimes they don't. Maybe I’ve got a chemical imbalance. Maybe I’m just dull. Who knows? I don’t really give a shit as long as I get some action to keep me awake.

I like to collect WWII stuff, but that only goes so far with keeping my interest. After all, there are no screaming Japanazis to impale on my bayonet. I need Japanazis to play with! Otherwise, what’s the point of hitting the beach and flaming all those motherfuckers!? I’ll give ‘em this much: They didn’t hide like a bunch of rat-bag chickenshits like the muzzies do. They’d get in your face and take the battle to you! You knew who the enemy was and it was OK to wipe the fuckers out! Now that was anti-boredom to the max! Having said that, I’m bored again.