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[joppaisla]

Bored, 19 (ish), and Weird: sort of nsfw..?

I hear screaming outside my door, not the murdery kind, that’s not this kind of book, or rather, journal. It’s a Friday night, and it seems like the rest of the world is having fun. Boys over at 1am, Drake playing from an RA’s room. It really does seem like every person on this floor is having fun. Except me.

Yes I know I’m being something of a sourpuss, spending my days complaining, or sleeping, or…well really nothing else. It’s a Friday night and what do I have to show for it? Well let’s look, I fished some strange cucumbers out of my fridge, I had put them at the wrong setting and when they defrosted they had become liquified insides and a still hard outside. It was like touching an alien’s penis, ok that wasn’t appropriate. Well my next activity of partying was just as grim, and embarrassing to share. After I threw away my strange squishy cucumber I was bored, and the first thing any human on this earth does when they are bored is masturbate.

It’s a go-to but also so depressing, most of the time I don’t even finish, its fun for a few moments, using my abused $15 bullet from Amazon but eventually it just gets sad. I start to see myself as the fruit fly living in my plants which has refused to die, lonely, slightly chubby, almost nineteen year old zapping herself for stimuli. That always takes me out of it. 

Next thing you know you’re drinking Trader Joe’s tea from a mug you stole from your roommate googling “Am I depressed? NO WebMD”. You get caught up in the semantics of it, “If I even have to ask I must be depressed” “No, a really depressed person doesn’t need an online quiz from 2013 to affirm them, you must be faking!!” 

I spend my time so wastefully I look up from my computer to see the sun has fallen, I get…sad. I wasn’t going to leave my room anyway, go outside and do what? Hang out with what friends? Go and get what food? Even though I was never going to leave my little cave I still feel sad knowing I can’t leave, at least not at the “raping hour”. 

So what’s the purpose of all this? What’s it mean to be a college freshman with no friends, no money, no job, no boyfriend or girlfriend. Well it means you invest in vibrators and one dollar ramen I’ll tell you that, but other than that? I have no idea. 

Freud told me that no-one who is happy ever daydreams, only the man with a unsatisfied life. I’d love to tell Freud beyond the grave how wrong he is but he truly isn't, at least not here. In fact I can’t wait for when I’m able to leave my classes and daydream. Mostly about romance and you know what but everything, from being a princess (yes I never grew out of those ones) to flying a plane, to being a celebrity, to writing the eulogy of an unknown family member. It’s honestly the best part of my day when I no longer have to pretend to live this life, I can do whatever I want, only of course in the confines of my brain.

That’s the worst part, being a brain, or a brain with a person attached. I am envois of every creature or insect I pass, I think “It has no idea how good a life it’s living”. I know it’s hard to hear from a white teenage girl in the middle of the midwest talk about the struggles of life and I don’t mean to mope but I truly think the bug has it better.

The bug has no needs it cannot meet, it wants food it gets food, it wants children it mates, none of this friends with benefits shit with bugs. Its life while yes full or fear and short lived will always be infinitely happier than the humans who step on it. It doesn’t have to every worry about matching socks or how their major and insect university will never make them any money. They struggle but are happy. 

When I get in these moods I try to reinvigorate myself by a good stalking of social media, stalking every girl I hate, every guy I’ve had sex with, sometimes a person is both of these things…Its a little pathetic to announce, imaging me, a spinster turned old hag looking through frenemies daily lives, chuckling a little to see they failed a test, gained weight, or got back with their ugly ex. For a moment I feel better, than my own patheticness seeps back in. Not only am I an old hag sitting along in my dark cold room on a Friday night but I can’t even doing it in peace.

Now I’ve exhausted every method of fighting off boredom and loneliness, everything returns here, back to nothing. Hey maybe I’ll try masturbating again.