Nyaaaaaaaaan, so bored.

It's not even like boredom anymore. At least when you're bored, you can come up with something new and/or useful to do.

This is more like numbness. You can't think of anything new to do, no matter how hard you strain yourself to do so. There's nothing on the Internet, nothing on the television, you've listened to your entire music collection over the course of the day, there's no story floating in your head, and you can't leave the house yet because of your mild panic over how to inform your folks that you're leaving. There's no one to talk to, no one to offer sympathy or cheer you up. Your movies are all getting boring. You're tired of watching them over and over. You can't even sit and meditate because you just feel so bored. Your attention keeps slipping elsewhere.

You're just kind of THERE. Existing. But not living. Like a mushroom or a rock.

Mind, I'm not depressed at all. I'm absolutely fine.

I'm just so mindnumbingly bored of being here in this house day after bloody day doing the same things. I could probably blindfold myself and manage to do everything I do over the day without injuring myself.

I need something to do. Maybe there's some space left for CITs at Camp Rockfish?

Maybe I'll go hang out at Mom's. Mom can usually think of something to do. Like going to the mall or the Botanical Gardens or hiking up to the gas station and just lazing around while you watch people go by.

That sounds like a good idea. Maybe on Monday, I'll go and spend a week (two?) at Mom's. Maybe that's how I'll take my leave on my adventure. Go out exploring (like Mom so often suggests) and keep on going until I run out of water. Pause, begin again.

I think that sounds good.