False Epiphany

Ever experienced staring at the MS Word cursor for a long time trying to squeeze out something from your brain? Something, anything that is worth writing down. You try to make sense of all the tangled signals in your brain and you try to weave something out of that mess. But in the end all you have are fragments. Not even remotely resembling a thought. And it sucks.

I’ve been feeling a lot of contradicting emotions for some time now. I try to write them down. I manage to put together a couple of sentences but then I realize I’m not really going anywhere so I stop. I get bored. I open a web browser, go to Facebook or Twitter, or watch some porn, or stare at my blog stats and pretend to analyze them. Then I go back to what I was writing hoping that those sentences would maybe make snese after letting them sit for a few minutes. But they are still just a heap of words. So I delete them and try starting over again.

I’m not pressuring myself to write. I’ve learned that it doesn’t work that way for me. It’s the best part of being a blogger: I can write whenever I want to. No deadlines, no assigned topic, I just write down what I want whenever I feel like it. So no, there’s no pressure at all. I just... I just want to make sense of everything I’m thinking. And writing them down is supposed to help. It’s supposed to be like therapy. But it’s not working right now.

So after hours of alternately staring at a blank document and taking breaks from staring at a blank document, this was what I managed to squeeze out:

I am bored. I am so effin bored.

Some epiphany. “Bored” doesn’t actually capture how I feel right now, but it’s close enough. And now that I think about it, many of the things I did in my life can be explained by “I was bored”.

I took the entrance exam to that science high school and I studied there because I was bored with life in the province.

I studied in that state university because I got bored with Davao.

I buried myself deep into addiction to an online game because I was bored with school.

I broke up with my boyfriend, dated Luis and stopped dating Luis all because I was bored. You could easily put it that way.

I took that HIV test because I had nothing else to do that day. I knew I’d be non-reactive but I took it anyway.

I accepted that job offer because I was tired of being a bum.

I think boredom may also have been one of the reasons I started blogging.

Haha. Here I go again trying to analyze things. But I think I’m on to something this time. A few weeks ago I had an interesting conversation with my best friend. I asked her how she would react if I were HIV positive. She said that she wouldn’t think that my life was a waste because I always did whatever it is that I wanted to do. And I realize that yes, she’s right. That’s a good thing if you do it because you want to keep growing. But that’s not the case with me. I just have this pathological need to keep my life exciting. And while it may appear to some that I’m doing a good job at it, the sad fact is I keep ending up bored over and over again. That’s exactly where I am now.

I want to quit my job.

I want to kiss a stranger.

I met a really interesting guy last weekend. I want to see him again.

I want to move to a different apartment.

I want to partee and drown myself in lights and music. Never tried it before.

I want to meet every single blogger in my list.

I want to sing in front of a thousand people.

I want to go to Davao for the weekend.

I want to buy new clothes.

I want to play Dead Island.

I want to apply for graduate school.

I want to learn how fix cellphones.

I want to jump off a bridge. But I don’t want to die so that’s out of the question.

I want change. Dammit, I want change. I want to live. Change makes me feel alive.


Does anyone know a shrink? I think I need one. Bleccch.