Dull

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The absence of events is eating me away. Everyday is the same exact thing. There's no point in fighting against autopilot anymore, I know she'll always make her way back into my life. So dull. Bland. The dullness of the days that go by are excruciatingly boring. The lack of creativity is killing me. I almost wish something would happen, even if it were bad. 

Dragging through the dull day. Laughing at the same jokes everyday, not really finding them funny. Not feeling sad but not feeling happy either. Not really feeling anything. Telling the same joke over and over again, laughing at yourself but not really finding it funny, but pathetic. Running into the same people between the same classes and greeting each other the same way you did yesterday and the day before. Feeling the same annoyance with the same girls behind you in class and hearing people call you the same thing, calling you a name that's not yours. Walking the same way to the cafeteria getting the same thing as you did yesterday and the day before. Seeing the same people on the way there. Same, same, same. 

Putting in the same cd into the car and leaving at the same song and at the same time as you did yesterday. And the day before. 

Living the same day over and over again, only slightly different every time. 

I'm wondering, what's the point? What am I doing this for? Nothing is funny anymore. Nothing is fun or enjoyable. I constantly catch myself smiling at people and situations I don't like, or talking about shit I don't care about. 

Wanting to at least feel sad or depressed, but feeling absolutely nothing. Disconnected from reality, autopilot taking control over the dull day. 

Being aware of the lack of difference often makes it worse. You get quieter, more bored, but not willing to change anything. The jokes are getting old and I can't even laugh anymore. Nothing's fun. Nothing's interesting. Everything is dull. Gray. Unbearably boring. Notice that I'm typing the same ideas, same phrases, same words over and over again, but I don't know how else to get my point across. Can't think of anything new. 

You start to think you're getting better, happier. But as the same day goes by, you realize that you're getting worse. You almost wish you didn't notice how bland and boring each day is, how everyday starts and ends the same, because then you would be fine, happy. You wouldn't see yourself as a prisoner, but a normal, free person. Everything would be fine if you didn't think. If you didn't sit down one day and think for your own. Because being on autopilot, you don't have to think. You don't have to think on your own, and if you do, it's the same thoughts and feelings as you thought or felt yesterday and the day before. You start regretting being an actual human and thinking for your own, acting like a human instead of a machine. 

How dare you think! Why would you make everything seem so stale like that? I liked the illusion better than reality, it was better that way. Being aware, being conscious, I hate it! You shouldn't have questioned the routines or the sameness, you should've just went on with your life until things started to change, when you could think again! The awareness makes the days so much longer, so much more bland, stale, dull! Why would you wake me? Why would you torture me this way? Why couldn't you just carry on with your boring life? Now I can't go back to sleep, it's impossible now! See what you've done? You're going to feel boredom so intense it will eat you up! How ignorant are you? Now you're a slave to this reality, no more illusions or tricks. Are you happy now? Are you happy that you've finally cracked the riddle?

Once you're aware, you find that there's no point in laughing at things that are not funny, no point in smiling at things that don't make you happy, no point in talking when you have nothing to say. But you know this thinking is dangerous. You know you're going downhill fast, falling down the stairs, thinking you're in control when you're not. But you don't necessarily care. There's no point in caring anyway, we're just monkeys with no purpose on this earth other than to survive, right?

The dullness will turn into insanity and chaos, but you're okay with that. After all, it is a change. You start to worry that the desperation for change will lead you to make mistakes you would pay off for the rest of your life. But are you really worried? Do you secretly hope that a devastating tragedy will come your way, no matter how much it would hurt? How desperate are you really for something to happen? Would you feed off the pain of change? Would you be satisfied or relieved if your own mother was a victim of a terrible tragedy? You say you're scared that you would turn to acts of insanity, but are you really? How long would it take for you to finally snap. 


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