Bored

This poem was written in-part before my watching of the series, ‘Killing Eve’, and its finishing was filled with the show’s inspiration shortly after my binge-watching. I fell in love with Waller-Bridge and Comer’s rendition of the Villanelle character and her ever-surprising presentation of totally-relatable psychopathy. Before reading this poem, in order to fully understand the context of the word ‘boring’, please go and watch all 32 episodes of the show, OR, simply understand that, to a person who feels, does, and represses so much, life can get a little… boring.

People preach activity,

motion and it’s necessity…

We usually praise resting but,

there’s a certain degree where it becomes testing.

How much rest can you endure,

before you’re rested up? Are you sure?

Could you rest more?

Sleep more, do less?

People around me striving for success…

While I loosen the rules imparted upon me.

Do you notice how my dark circles fade?

As subliminally as the blurred dates

passing me by as I enjoy the space I made.

The space for rest is what we miss,

constantly aiming for this ingrained idea of bliss.

I’m young, but I’m tired.

So I inject things to make me feel wired.

But at the end of the day it’s not so fulfilling-

for fake charisma I wouldn’t pay a single shilling.

I’d rather rest up, shut down, and shut up.

I’ve got no idea what’s beneath the top…

Layers and layers of fatigue to be explored…

It can be so uncomfortable to simply be: bored.

But what a gift it is also-

Loneliness and autonomy guides the ducks to a row.

It’s these times in life when it’s truly just you

and you get to pick the things you WANT to do.

But the wants and desires are clouded in a haze

until I have balanced out my days.

The years of fighting, flighting, and freezing

are being soothed now with a life that is pleasing.

That takes time, though. And dedication and persistence.

And just an ounce of willingness to give up resistance.

Is it still considered fighting, flighting, and freezing

when I’m holed-up contemplating my existence?

Is it cruel or just true to say that my mindset

brings me some distance in all instances?

Is it normal to have times where you can’t see days’ differences?

Or that when it comes to dreaming and waking I can’t tell what the difference is?!

Or am I just bored?