Bored till death do us part
I must have been born on the wrong planet. It seems I’ve found myself in a world where everyone is content on repeating the same unremarkable stages of life that their parents and their grandparents did before them. My doctor recently told me, right after I mentioned the SSRIs weren’t doing anything and he got done fondling my balls, that what I really need is to go to church. Thanks doc. That must be what I’ve been missing all this time.
I wonder why so many desire to simply turn on cruise control and seek their fleeting highs. The types that were happy with Bs and Cs. The middle-class-wannabes. Why live when your very existence has already been done? Why repeat history?
Perhaps this is where church comes in. To fill the emptiness in our lives that are truly without meaning. But the inevitable question remains, if we were created by a higher power, where did this higher power come from? What’s the point of the lives of these deit(ies) and demigod(s)? Why do they exist? I need a meta-religion to explain religion. It feels like the meaning of life has just been relocated, excused away because we can’t just accept how barren our existence really is without it.
So I go on, seeking new life meanings, trying to do something original because I would be bored to tears waking up one day to realize that life is completely pointless. That someone before me has done the same acts of courting a mate, carrying out a career and rearing children. It would be pretty disenchanting to find life is truly a circle and it repeats the same way each time. I would be utterly bored till death.