Boredom

I blame my computer for making me forget what it was like to be bored, genuinely bored. Up until ten years back I knew what boredom was, now I only know restlessness. The machine is fundamentally different from me, because it isn’t sophisticated enough to be bored. It doesn’t understand the long routed, intuitive, stupid way in which I learn and understand things. It moves so terribly fast, it is always happy in a sickening sort of way.

Future generations will not know what boredom is, there is always something to see on the internet, a movie to watch, a tv series, an article to read, and the effects are already there to see, with metros filled with people staring at their screens, clicking photos of themselves, the poor fools. It is an incessant evasion of the self, the screen before me dematerialises me and thus allows me to escape myself.

The internet is useful, that is its biggest problem, so is the laptop, but there isn’t a thing I regret more than having my laptop. It is like a bad marriage that you stay in for the kids. I wish terribly that I could do without it, so I could go back to being bored, alas there isn’t an app for boredom.

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