Nothing seems able to quench the boredom today. Others here look forward to slow days. I don’t dread them, as the leisurely pace of things has its merits. Its attractions.
But I don’t know anybody here, and getting to know anyone has proven very difficult. I am not the most sociable person to begin with, and what socializing goes on around here seems clique-ish.
I may have made a decision to actually go to a bar down here after work. Not a shape-shifting decision but it would be my first foray into making this area feel more like a neighborhood where I do anything but work and, occasionally shit and jerk off.
THe bar will likely be not so loud or crowded, given the holiday weekend and this area’s relatively quiet bara scene even during the week.
I start to ask if my anxiety and BP meds are not working anymore. Maybe it’s lack of sleep. No I blame it on boredom. When this would strike in my previous life I would walk. It was cathartic but I always knew it was a waste of time. Some turns of activity had their ultimate merit but mostly it was just time being swallowed.
I feel it hourly, the swallowing of waste, the containment. Wasted time is not absorbed, nor is it digested or repurposed. It simply fills the infinity of time with itself, with its bloat and blubber, causing discomfort and heaviness.
I went over to the payphones today, the phones at 77 Water. Two of my radio cards have been there for about 3 weeks. I think the janitor there, who had aggressively removed them last time, let them go this time. They fit nicely into those phones. Nice and flat. I know I get listeners from those cards but I’ve placed them less aggressively these past months.
