Briefcase Full of Boredom

I was wondering last night If I am stuck in this seemingly un-ending phase of dissatisfaction and unhappiness forever. If I will ever get out of it. If I can someday look back on these single, poor, struggling days like the days I was living in a box of unhappiness. Like a box I’ll be able to take out of the closet and look at its contents. Or if this isn’t a box, but my actual life that I am stuck with.

My momentary, brief brushes with something resembling happiness come from reading, music and writing in my book journal. I can’t even say that that’s happiness, though. I would rather be doing something with someone who loved me than anything else. Regardless, my land-line only rings when the collection agencies call me. I’m expecting the cable to be shut off any minute now – again. I may-may not beat-off in a few hours. Mundane weeks and days go by. Uneventfulness is the norm.

 

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