I'm already bored

It's Sunday and I just got back from my walk. Now I have nothing planned for the rest of the day, except writing and playing music and meditating. I'm already bored.

Bored? farmboy, you've got music, you've got stuff to watch on TV, you've got books, it's sunny outside and not too warm. How can you be bored?

Okay, I guess what I am is bored and lonely. Seems like all I ever do is do things by myself. At least I got to see my brother and his family last night. We ate in the back yard, which means I got to spend some time outdoors.

I guess I'll probably smoke weed later and play guitar and stuff, but, really, I wish I could go someplace like a songwriting retreat or something where I could have both time to be creative and time to spend with people who have the same interests as me. But being here in my apartment, as much as I'm thankful for my apartment -- well, it's so fuckin' boring that I can barely stand it.

You could go somewhere, you know.

Yeah, but where? I'm real tempted to go out and get some Thai food for supper, but we'll see. I have food here at home and I'm trying not to spend much money. Not to mention the fuckin' carbs from the rice noodles.

I do have rice noodles here, and leftover chicken, and some vegetables. Maybe I'll just cook at home.

How about going to the movies or something like that?

I don't know. Maybe. I should check to see what's playing. Maybe I'll just end up listening to the new Taylor Swift album again. It's pretty fun.

Well, farmboy, whatever you do, I hope you have a good time doing it.

I hope so, too. I mainly don't want to be depressed out of boredom, but sometimes that happens. We'll see.

rest of my life

you wake up every morning
and everyone is against you
it comes without a warning
how everybody offends you
you're the only one who's right
everyone else is wrong
so I thought about it all night
while I finally wrote this song

          I'm living the rest of my life
          all by myself
          it all turns out all right
          when there's no one else
          all I need is silence
          to protect my mental health
          I'm living the rest of my life
          all by myself

I won't have to buy birthday gifts
for all my aging friends
you can't tell me about Taylor Swift
those days are at an end
I won't have to go to boring functions
where there's nothing to do
I'm finding myself at the junction
where there's nothing I can lose

          I'm living the rest of my life
          all by myself
          it all turns out all right
          when there's no one else
          all I need is silence
          to protect my mental health
          I'm living the rest of my life
          all by myself

that Taylor Swift song

that Taylor Swift song
has taken over my brain
pop hooks always win

Animal rights, climate change, pad see eu

You know, man, I'm sorry I keep talking about this stupid accident. I feel like I'm a broken record, just playing the same song over and over.

This accident has been the focus of your life for the past four months, farmboy. What else are you going to talk about?

Well, there's the state of the world, a surrealistic election, art, music, sports and films. There's literature, the environment, the Middle East, Taylor Swift, the news media, the popularization of podcasting, my inner feelings about my family and friends, and skyscrapers.

There's the value of solitude, the need for socialization among homo sapiens, the fate of the family farms, noise pollution, water skiing, cable television, wild versus farm-raised salmon, the latest cooking trends, wine tasting, the future of fossil fuels, the fuckin' economy, and quinoa.

There's aircraft carriers, racial issues, used Kleenex, hubcaps, potable water, BASE jumping, floor sanding, pottery, barbecued brisket, universities in Calgary, Alberta, national anthems, electric guitars, wooden decks on tiny houses, fountain pens, biscuits and gravy...

Now I'm hungry...

...The absolute lack of nutrition in student lunches, animal rights, climate change, pad see eu, computer keyboards, recycling, wheelchair maintenance, dogs, skateboarding, chutes and ladders, electrical outlets, spinach scrambles as opposed to omelets, asphalt and gravel, cement driveways, and the question of will Hamilton change the general perception of the Broadway musical.

There's rearranging living room furniture, Judd Apatow movies, socialism, marijuana culture, French impressionism, untuned pianos, Native American history, chocolate cupcakes, grocery stores, Twitter, wet paint, little villages in Italy where entire families live, the drug cartels in Sinaloa, and milkshakes with local berries.

There's big-box department stores, Wi-Fi, women's issues, incorrect punctuation, speed-walking, frozen bananas, stale popcorn, bedroom slippers, heroin, sleazy sex, tossed salads and scrambled eggs, doorknobs, English-speaking foreigners, bathroom reading, mineral water with fresh lemon, window blinds, agriculture, steel rails, and old, forgotten daydreams.

Okay, farmboy, you've made your point.

Now about the fuckin' accident...