I Wrote This When I Was Bored

What do you do when you get bored? 

Do you scroll through Instagram, liking what feels like the same three pictures over and over and over again because it seems like every sorority had their date party last night? Or perhaps you spend what feels like (and maybe actually is) hours on TikTok, the same three songs playing over and over and over again in your head as pretty much everyone seems to be trying to learn the new version of the Renegade? 

Personally, I am the first. I’ve vowed to never download TikTok out of my fear of becoming addicted to it.  

Or do you do something else, maybe? 

Change the song you’re listening to three thousand times? Or make a new playlist?  

Maybe take out your laptop and attempt to write, but immediately get distracted and opt for online shopping instead?  

Start binge-watching the next season of your favorite Netflix series? Or AutoPlay movie trailers on YouTube until you realize it’s been two hours and you still haven’t actually watched a movie yet?  

Personally, I am the latter. I once did that exactly, and wound up falling asleep in the middle of probably my twentieth horror film trailer, if you can believe that.  

Do you dream?  

Perhaps you close your eyes and let all the colors of the light seeping in through the thins of your eyelids engulf you, swirling around like paint rolling off a canvas into a bucket of water. Your head starts to nod back and forth, forth and back; it feels weightless atop your downturned shoulders as you struggle to stay awake. It seems as though every muscle in your body is telling you to just give in, to succumb to the soft breeze blowing in through your bedroom window and to take that afternoon nap even though you shouldn’t. 

The smell of the outdoors kisses you goodnight at 2 PM as a warm veil of darkness overtakes you.  

In your dreams you see all that ever was and all there currently is, trees turn to leaves and cars turn into people as you run the course of the day’s events until something (or someone) jolts you awake.  

Maybe you stop and smell the roses for too long. Maybe you ride a giraffe out of the zoo and into the city. Maybe all your teeth fall out. Maybe you walk into work with your pajamas on. 

Maybe something totally unrealistic happens, and maybe it doesn’t. 

Maybe you don’t remember. Maybe you wake up crying.  

I once read that your brain never forgets a face, and that when you dream, all the faces your brain collects like files in cabinets reappear.  

Meaning that you’ve probably bumped into your nightmares’ villains in the streets before, or caught a glimpse of the whites of their eyes on the subway or something.  

It’s a bit unnerving, isn’t it? How many dreams have I unknowingly been a part of? Or you?  

Are you feeling bored still?