It just hit me that I live a boring, mundane life. No seriously. Outside of school, my life is pretty damn boring. And now that I’m done with school, I’m wondering if I’m going to be stuck in this seemingly bottomless pit of boredom forever. *insert dramatic music here* You’re probably wondering where this rant about my boring life is coming from, huh? Right on cue, here’s the explanation.
My last blog post was on December 1st. Since then I’ve spent hours trying to write something for this blog. I start typing and then a few paragraphs in, I realise that whatever it is I’m writing is complete rubbish, delete it, then contemplate not ever writing again and becoming a call centre agent instead (a bit melodramatic, I know). I started thinking about it and I realised that my writer’s block could be linked to the fact that I’m not doing anything particularly exciting or productive with my life right now. It’s literally been the same routine everyday for almost two months now. The hardest decision I had to make last week was whether or not I should shave my beard. Jesus Christ, my life is boring.
Now compare the present day, boring, unimaginative Minenhle to the Minenhle of four months ago and you’ll see the difference. The Minenhle of four months ago was churning out blog posts for fun. He was inspired. He had shit to say (and he probably wouldn’t be referring to himself in the third person like this). Between dealing with school, falling and actually interacting with other human beings, I had a lot of inspiration around me. Even my fucking unhappiness inspired me to write, dammit! I’m not doing any of the things I mentioned anymore because I’m cooped up in the house, therefore I am not inspired. Except for the falling bit. Apparently I’m still doing that. Apparently I’m still completely smitten. Hmm.
For those of you who were wondering, I didn’t shave my beard.
So what lesson have I learnt from all this boredom and writer’s block? To live. My quiet, unexciting life has left me bereft of any creativity and inspiration, and I don’t like it. I’m tired of hiding behind my awkwardness and general dislike for human beings as reasons for not living. For the first time in my life, I’m not content with the quiet life. It feels like life is passing me by and I’m missing out on shit because of it.
I want to do stuff, man. Go bungee jumping, get on a rollercoaster, go on a weird date, sky dive, get lost in the middle of fucking Gold Reef City because I haven’t been there in so long, test drive a car that I have no intention of buying because I’m broke, keep falling. Stuff that will inspire me to keep writing. Stuff that’ll make me feel alive. After all, to live doesn’t mean you’re alive, huh?
Wait, did I just use a line from a Nicki Minaj song there? What the?! *Delete! Delete! Delete!*