It’s crazy how fast I get bored. Fault be mine or what surrounds me? I have no clue. But the realisation struck that it has its own pattern. Every two weeks or so, striking me harshly with a slap on my face. Then depression takes over, followed by my pretext of happiness, with hope that somewhere at some point, people will get a clue. (though their cluelessness of my state always being the norm)
Had I been Emma Bovary I would be sleeping around. Mediocrity killed that woman, with boredom and then her stupid hallucinations. Nothing too different, just that I shall try to stop at boredom and die of it, rather than stupid hallucinations. I mean at least people might not call me crazy then. But then again, I am not sure if it will be boredom and insomnia combined. That might be one sad combination to die of. No one would remember a woman who died of those two. No fun or innovation, hence to be forgotten way too fast..
So Vesak day has come, and I immerse myself in this stupid boredom that be not new and wonder whether Lord Buddha hit boredom before he attained enlightenment. I am sure at some stage of life he must have.
Someone asked me today if I had gained any enlightenment. I told him I already was enlightened. Not the way people are expected to be, but in a very warped and twisted kind of way. I think he was taken aback by my answer. Then again, how is one to answer such stupid inquiry? With more stupidity and sarcasm of course. So I obliged.
One ugly lantern hangs at my doorstep. It’s a very ugly pink. Dad was late to go shopping for paper and well sis was the one who did the honours of pasting that ugly paper onto its skeleton. I feel like that lonely lantern, out of place and just plain ugly. Just hanging there, while I keep hanging in here. Out of sheer and mere obligation because that be what is expected of us. Hence we oblige.
If I knew the tongue of lanterns I bet you any amount that the lantern dies a slow death at my door step, in her boredom. (her because the lantern is hot pink, no kidding) I am sure it is cursing out of loud, but obviously unheard.