Bored.

I’m getting so bored of everything.

I’m bored with my phone

I’m bored with my shows

I’m bored with my fashion

I’m bored with my hatred

I’m sick and tired of my mind telling me lies I can’t help but believe.

I hate how I listen to it intently. It doesn’t matter if I know it’s not true, my heart still aches and shrivels. 

Sometimes I think I like hurting. Maybe it’s because I want to be rid of my heart, rid of emotions, rid of everything. 

I’m bored of my pain

I’m bored of my privilege

I’m bored of my hair

I’m bored of my face

I stare and compare, worried if my stomach is hanging. Worried about any bump on my face that shouldn’t be there. I look at my eyes and wish they were unique. I wish my lips were bigger and my sides curvy. I look so plain with my straight brown hair and dirty water brown eyes. My body a block barely tapped into to make a statue. I’ll stare at arms planted with hair that’s grown so long to a man it compares. Ugly so ugly yet I can’t seem to cut it. Because if I did I think I’d love myself even less. 

I’m bored of insecurity 

I’m bored of my nails

I’m bored of being stupid

I’m bored of not understanding

I’m bored of being told what to do

I’m bored of being yelled at.

Sometimes I’m slow to catch things. Or maybe I can’t hear. And people get so angry. They yell or snap, say “nevermind” and I’m left with a silence of annoyance. I hate when it happens. I hate I accept the yelling. As soon as their voice raises my heart immediately turns off and all I’ll say is “okay” or “i’m sorry”. I feel emotionless and robotic. I’m getting so sick of that. 

I’m bored of distractions

I’m bored of trying

I’m bored of being affected 

I’m bored of caring 

I’m bored of making mistakes

I wish I could skip 20 years into the future and see what my life is like. If I became a better person, if I overcame this boredom and found something new. I think we all like to think of the future as prosperous. I think we have to think that way to keep doing what we are. We keep saying it’s because of time we don’t have the things we want. 

In time I’ll figure it out.

In time I’ll get rich

In time I’ll get these problems under control

In time I’ll understand

In time I’ll be perfect

In time I’ll be happy.

And I’m stuck wondering if we ever do become happy; happy like we want to be, instead of the kind we ignore and forget. Or maybe we learn to settle. I bet people would tell you, you learn to appreciate what you have. I bet it’s either that or as time goes by you simply forget everything from old age. I hope I’m happy when I’m old. I hope I get to be old. No matter the answer, I feel trapped to accept it. 

I guess that’s where my boredom comes from

ACCEPTANCE 

There’s nothing I can do aside from  accept and accept and accept and accept… 

It makes everything feel so worthless. A game that plays itself while you merely watch it. 

I want a change. 

I want something new. 

I want to be done with these problems. 

I want to have a choice. 

I want to be in the right. 

I want to be special

I want to be talented 

I want to stop feeling bored.