Boredom

Today is my first day back at work after my journey across the world. I spent the majority of my days since returning from my trip doing a bit of nothing. I did my usual abandonment of tasks, not on purpose, but by sleep deprivation.

I finished the Ocean’s trilogy and decided I wanted to commit a heist. And that I want the white boys with the bleached blonde tips of the 2000s back. I’m tired of twinks with below average BMIs. I want to see a real man kill shit.

By the way, I am not actually committing a heist. I think I’m too lazy for the detailed planning anyway. If something had to be completed in two minutes and 33 seconds or else the world blows, the world might as well be dust. I entertained the idea for a brief 5 minutes while taking my first breath of outside air at approximately 8:30pm, smoking a Lucky Strike cigarette. The performative males were right for once, these are the best cigarettes I’ve ever had (since I tried Malboro 27s).

Yesterday, I slept from 5am to 8pm. I woke up for 15 or so minutes around 4pm, posting two create modes, seeing relief that my client magically did not show up for the appointment I slept through and went back to bed. By the time I was awake, the sun had already left me to die.

This has been the coolest summer in Los Angeles I’ve experienced since I moved here half a decade ago, even the guy on the bike in Arcteryx told me he was trying not to freeze to death. Three summers ago around this time, I slept on the concrete of my apartment balcony every single day. I’m surprise I didn’t get kidnapped with the screen fully revealing my vulnerable body, often fading away to the sound of television.

I was fiending for a cigarette, so I walked briskly to the gas station 300 feet away to find myself a new pack of Malboro 27s, of course. And a Diet Coke. This is what makes me American.

I don’t have anything else to say, so I’ll leave it at that. I’m applying to graduate school, maybe out of boredom, and out of an inquiry for something more than this.