Boredom and Reading

This is a non-sense, stupid article and unless you are as bored as I am and willing to waste your precious time, I advise you to do something else.  Now you’ve been warned, read at your own risk.

You really have a boring life when you suddenly find yourself typing in Google Search the words“how to make life exciting/interesting?”.   bored gif photo: bored gif CC---bored.gifThat’s what exactly happened to me a few seconds ago and I started laughing at myself, so freaking pathetic. That what happens when all you do is work, go home, and work again. Yes, I love my job but even annoying people and challenging tasks get boring when its an everyday occurrence (stress is part of the job I signed up for). There is nothing wrong with falling into a routine; it makes life orderly, well, until you die of boredom.  I have so many “exciting” plans in life and they all require money, something that I have to spend wisely.  Without money, where do I go? I don’t like going to malls that much because I am only tempted to buy things I don’t have money for.  I wanted to go on a vacation for the longest time (alone or with family/friends) but then again I would need money.  Oh, the things I could do with the abundance of money.  Most would say that even the richest people get bored with their life, so money is not the issue but I hope they introduce me those rich ones and ask them to give me their money, maybe that’s the source of their boredom. Maybe I just have to be creative and come up with things that will spice up my life without spending too much money.  Problem is I am not creative, so I might as well stop this nonsense.  Sometimes I want to slap myself.  I told you, this is a waste of time.

The only excitement I experienced was all from the books I’ve read. Thank God for all those talented, fearless, crazy authors that made my life so much better. Whatever adrenaline rush I felt I owe it all to them (unless you consider being able to squeeze in the train just before the door closes, I know it is an adventure every morning to come to work without losing your patience with the traffic everywhere and crowded LRT all the freaking time).

Through books, I live dangerously, loved so passionately,  hated so viciously, fought violently, laughed unabashedly, flirt shamelessly, and of course traveled endlessly, whether through time or space.  I became someone else living somewhere else.  Reading gave me the chance to live as many lives as I can.  I felt almost every emotion there is through reading.


I cannot imagine life without books.  Like the girl who can’t go to bed without a cup of tea in the song Little Things (the only One Direction song I actually like), I can’t go to sleep without reading; it’s a bad habit I developed through the years.  I am confused whether I really do suffer from insomnia or I am just making it up so I can stay up all night reading but I really can’t sleep without reading anything (usually a romance, my guiltiest pleasure) it puts me on a “serene zone” so that I can easily fall asleep.  Books soothe me, they make laugh and cry, love and hate, happy and miserable, cringe in horror, make me feel blessed and doomed, they cleanse and corrupt me, put me in tranquility or in turmoil, inspires and depresses me, make me feel proud or put me to shame, make a believer or bring out the skeptic in me.  Books remind me that life is beautiful and it may not be always easy but it’s worth living.  Reading is my solace.

Now I am not so bored at all, I actually feel better but I don’t think you feel the same way after reading this.   I told you so.