If anything, I’m bored. When I say bored, I mean I’m really bored. And I haven’t been feeling so bored for quite some time. As I write this, my mood is alright. Nothing too burdened. Nothing too haunting. Nothing is crushing down. But when life is boring, your mind starts to fill up with funny, witty thoughts. Like suicidal thoughts. Just thoughts not plans. The thoughts of ‘death’, ‘death anxiety’ strike me more often recently. I guess I’m really bored. So much so I start to contemplate on death and read about books regarding death by Irvin Yalom.
Contemplating on death somehow comforting, at some point of my life. The words by Niezstche like “die at the right time”,” when we are tired, we are attacked by the ideas we once conquered” resonate my predicaments. I know I sounded absurd and believe me, I think I’m slightly out of my mind too.
The feelings are raw. I hate it when people or things get in, destroy my equanimity. It’s good that my obsession thoughts partly sublimates into something else, like reading. *I just read 6 Irvin Yalom’s book in less than 2 months, my new record!! I never read so much in my life. But still, it doesn’t solve my problem. I still find it difficult to relate myself with others. The distance I impose, it seems impossible to reconciles. I realized, I am truly pathetic, alone. I have little friends. At moments, I couldn’t think of anyone that I can call and hang out.
Just me, alone.
Scary thoughts, isn’t it?