I wanted to reject it all because I was sick of being perfect. I was so bored with normality and dreams of poster boys and tabloid covers.
Boredom is the fear of self.
The day, like the previous days, dragged sluggishly by in a kind of insipid idleness, devoid even of that dreamy expectancy which can make idleness so enchanting.
The problem with making a virtual world of oneself is akin to the problem with projecting ourselves onto a cyberworld: there’s no end of virtual spaces in which to seek stimulation, but their very endlessness, the perpetual stimulation without satisfaction, becomes imprisoning.
Eating should be an act of physical necessity or emotional joy, not something to alleviate boredom.
Some of the freckles I once loved are now closer to liver spots. But it’s still the eyes we look at, isn’t it? That’s where we found the other person, and find them still.
Anthropocentrism gave rise to boredom, and when anthropomorphism was replaced by technocentrism, boredom became even more profound.
Abaratians are very much about living in the moment; living life because that’s what we’ve got, we’ve got today, we’ve got now, we’ve got being alive now and we have to be awake and alive in the moment and not asleep in our lives. And they would find the idea of sleeping through your life, of being bored – they would think that was very stupid – why would you be bored when there’s so much to do and so much to see and so much to be?
I am terrified of being bored.
The boring thing about being interesting is that you bore boring people.