Boredom: The Daily Life of Frustration

Into the Forest

Life is like a forest and the days are the trees. It is a dark and foggy picture ahead and you can’t see very far into the forest because the days block it. 

This is the frustration of boredom. No matter how far you hike, how many days you chop down, the forest just gets deeper and deeper, darker and darker.

There is a kind of comfort in it if you like seclusion and being cut off from the world. If you use your days to find peace from within your own spirit then no matter where you go there will be light. But, there is this sense that the energy to live drains out of you as time goes on when you no longer have a vision to follow, a dream to fulfill, and to be able to ring the bell when you succeed.

When you remember how you felt when you achieved something and you realize you no longer have that feeling in life anymore life becomes drab. Well, it does for me anyway. I guess most people are okay with just living their daily lives and not achieving things of particular difficulty. It is enough for them to work, go home, have a life and enjoy the comforts that a dutiful life have afforded them. That is great, and I wished I was like that, but alas, I am not.

But climbing mountains is for the young. Sailing the seas is for the foolish. Flying high is for the daring. When you reach a certain age the comfort of life begin to take hold on to your list of desirous outcomes. No more is one willing to sacrifice comfort for an ambitious vision.

Being creative requires an atmosphere of creativity, yet sometimes a prohibitive atmosphere can pull up some power artistic works. When you can maintain your own mind without letting the junk of the world inside it, then you have a chance. Indeed, being creative is like having a protective shield in front of you protecting your mind with the creative work you do. When your mind is filled with creative thought then the world cannot penetrate it. It requires a huge commitment to stay inside your mind and to maintain the purity of it.

What else is there for an artistic type to do other than work? If you are burning with passion for your art then there is little time to fret about the world. The world will come and go, and the mode of thought will constantly change. But, inside a creative artist, the world is made up of ideas, beauty, and the possible. The thirst and drive to create no matter what the world seemingly forces down your throat is the only hope I have of seeing the forest as bright and beautiful, and being grateful for the trees that of me possibilities for growth.

Writing for me is really the only creative outlet I have right now. I can do audios and videos too, but I feel like writing is my best work. Sometimes I edit, sometimes I don’t. Writing for me isn’t trying to convince anyone of anything, it is simply a thought stream and I am not really interested in discussing whether I may or may not be right about anything I write. It isn’t about right or wrong, it is about expression, emotions, and the free flow of thoughts. To reside completely in a world of personal logic, whether grounded upon centuries of proof or just passing whims, I find it a peaceful place to enter.

This morning I woke up and went to the bathroom when I realized that being alone at home in a house with land around it was the first time I can remember knowing no one else could hear me. I can play music as loud as I want, I can sing and play music however I want and there is no one there to judge it. I have always sought an artistic haven and this home is not it starting tomorrow when my elderly father returns to his home and begins to bombard my mind with hours of ridiculous thinking. He can’t help it.

Some people don’t need solitude. I require it. Having lived in apartments and sharing a house with others have caused me to hate having other people in my business. I have an office that is a great solitude for me, but it isn’t a place where I can make noise and really be alone.

My entire life I have been haunted by the perceived listening ears in the walls around me. I’ve never felt free to create. Writing is good because it is a silent practice.

I guess the one thing I really want is a place to be where I can be myself 100%. Because, honestly, I have never felt free to be that.

Don’t get me wrong, I like being with people in the world. I enjoy interacting with people and seeing the world. But, I really have never known the solitude where I can build my own place the way I want it.

My place would have a Steinway grand piano in it, a guitar, a flute, a stereo, a beamer, and a good work desk. Plenty of covered storage and windows facing north, west and east for good lighting. It would have a swimming pool outside, covered for winter, and a garage to work on projects.

Maybe, if I could create a home like that for myself then I wouldn’t mind being at home. As it is, being home with someone else affecting my mind places a strain on my creativity. Here is a list of what I want…

  1. A studio/workshop for artistic endeavor. Secluded, roomy, bright and airy, cozy and comfortable.
  2. A garage/workshop for projects and a place to keep my car, my bikes, etc and tools to make and repair stuff with.
  3. A home to eat, sleep, live in. It doesn’t have to be a house, as long as I have my studio/workshop where I can work and be free to be me.

But, in the meantime, I have to be happy with the present moment.