Lately I seem to have been infected by the BORED virus, which renders its victims uninterested in literally everything, thus life suddenly feels purposeless and aimless. When one has known a life as hectic as what I had throughout this year (until now), a life this purposeless feels strange and unfamiliar, even unwelcome. It is terrible enough to not have anything major to look forward to (like maybe a dance performance or an event), but it is infinitely worse to perpetually have to rack your brain to find something that you want to do, and fail every single time. As if nothing is desirable to me now, and nothing could make me jump off my seat and make me say "yes, that's what I want to do!". Thus, I've been bored. REALLY bored. And it's beginning to kill me.
The irony is that I'm not even supposed to be bored. There are plenty, and I mean PLENTY that I could be doing: like looking for a job, or starting to draw stuff to add to my portfolio, or dancing to improve my none-too-wonderful techniques, or even watching a new anime series, if I'm up for entertainment rather than self-enrichment. Yet there is NOTHING that I FEEL like doing. Not even starting a new addiction, like Gossip Girls or maybe Bleach, which I haven't continued watching since god-knows-when. Not even dancing, and that's major. Recently, I've not known a single time when I don't feel like dancing. The virus must be highly potent after all.
I'm not sure what's the cause behind this calamitic virus that has overtaken me, but all I know is that I wanna recover bloody soon. Yet one aspect of my life seems untouched by the virus, either because the virus isn't potent enough, or because the creator of the virus simply failed to consider this part of human physiology. I know this, because despite everything, he still retains his throne at the forefront of my mind, and so long as he holds rule in the kingdom of my thoughts, he continues to be the one thing I desire to talk to, to be with, to dream of, everything. Shouldn't I be happy, then, that I still have something that I desire? Maybe I would be happier if it is a little easier to obtain that which I most desire.
The word love
is not a word that I use lightly
for the intensity and depth
that it entails
mean that for one to deserve my love
he needs to be especially special.
Uncertainty and hesitation
inevitably overcome me
time and time again
when I want to ascertain
whether what I feel is truly love.
But need I be so afraid
of mistaking it
when every fibre of my being
screams out for you
and when losing you
seems scarier than boredom?
