This Restless Soul

I am bored of myself and my life.

I am bored of being stuck in the same shitty cycle. I am bored of always splurging all my money on nothing. I am bored of putting so much value in things.

I’m bored of spending most of life indoors. At work. Studying. Reading. I’m bored of glaring screens and hunched shoulders.

I’m bored of letting my anxiety win.

I’m bored of living in FEAR.

I’m bored of the same things day-in-day-out. I’m bored of the washing up. The never-ending washing up.

I’m bored of gratitude lists and self-help books. I’m bored of this stupid game on my phone I’ve played so often I now open the app without even thinking.

I’m bored of the way society is lived on a single tract road.

I’m bored of never, ever feeling enough.

I’m bored of self-pity and my inner critic. I’m bored of having no fucking clue what I’m doing with my life or what I want from it. I’m bored of thinking of life as a transaction rather than a journey.

I’m bored of anti-depressants and contraceptive pills. I’m bored of toothpastes that promise white teeth.

I’m bored of adverts constantly reminding us that we a flawed and pretending like they can fix it. I’m bored of believing them.

I’m bored. I’m tired. I’m lost. I’m confused.

But I’m hopeful.

I’m hopeful that in the shadow of all the things I’m bored of lives all the things that will light up my soul and have it dance like the northern lights.

Maybe, just maybe, sobriety will lead the way.