The Author's Outlet

Face It. You're bored as fuck.

Brought to you after three bottles of wine and a joint. Enjoy!

This little piece is inspired by the pandemic we as Earth are currently going through and just how dangerous it is for people to be alone for so long. Even if their best interests are at hand. I wanted to make it longer, perhaps a bit more riveting. But I figured we should all relate to how it feels being stuck indoors alone and feel exactly what goes on in someones mind when they're not around everyone else. There's a lot more I could have written, I admit. But I love it like this. So I hope you do to. Don't forget to drop a comment, share and vote!

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You tap your phone screen rhythmically, watching tonnes of notifications flood in from your social media. Your DM's have never been busier, and don't get me started on the multiple random WhatsApp groups you've been added to. There couldn't be a more perfect time to make new friends, perhaps meet new connections online.

But you don't feel like opening them anymore.

The whole process is so monotonous. Tiring. Your social battery is all worn out and staring at the hundreds of unopened chats begging for your attention, isn't helping you recharge at all.

You've had enough of people for the day, which is ironic since you haven't seen an actual human being in almost a whole month.

As you sit up from the nest you call a bed, you knock over the Jim Beam bottles carelessly scattered on the floor and the sound is dramatic enough to make you wince silently. There isn't much light in the room; only streaks of it peaking out from the slits between the closed blinds. The rest of the room is quite dark, dull and slightly eerie. The once homely atmosphere reduced to a cold, lifeless prison.

There's half eaten crisp packets and biscuit crumbs allover your covers. Crumpled up pieces of tissue piled on your beside table from both the sad and the lonely nights. In the far corner all your clothes are pouring out of your wardrobe from the day you decided to piece together cute outfits  for when you were finally allowed out and life goes back to normal. But that won't be anytime soon. And the very thought vexes you.

After exhaling a harsh breath you summon enough energy to stand and stretch. Giving in to that riveting feeling one gets when their muscles tense and their joints simultaneously snap into place; but even after that pleasurable straightening of the spine, your bones feel so withered and stiff that at this point it's probably better for your health to be out there than indoors.

The phone continues to vibrate relentlessly as messages and missed calls pile on, but you choose to ignore them. Instead you head over to the window and crack it open to cleanse the heavy scent of sweat and  cigarettes that has been lingering in your room.

With nothing else to do, you lean against the wall and start slowly sliding down till you're crouching on the floor, aimlessly gazing at the tiny dust particles dancing in the rays of sunlight. How was it possible? To have all the time in the world to rest, but still feel so tired. Perhaps because the resting itself got tiring. Or perhaps you were just tired of yourself.

You groan and close your eyes for a few seconds, trying to suppress all the lucid thoughts fighting to intoxicate your mind. Thoughts that will only wreck you further. This is why you hate this quarantine. It gives you too much time in your head. And there is only so much alcohol one can take before the effects aren't so numbing anymore. The silence only makes it worse, cause then your thoughts seem so loud. Vigorously hammering against your temple. Screaming to escape. 

Perhaps a song or two would help. But what do you play? Do they make music for people who don't know how they feel?

You're not dismal, but you're definitely not content. Not angry, but hardly at ease. Drained. You decide. That's how best to describe the mood. You're absolutely drained. And no amount of tunes can  fix that. Maybe some fresh air. A walk would be nice. But a walk to where? There are troupes lined up on every street corner with orders to shoot anything that moves on sight. And even with them out of the way, the whole city has shut down. Either than the soldiers, anyone willing to leave their home probably doesn't have one to begin with.

You slowly lift your hand up into one of the rays of light peeping in from the window. It seems like decades since you last felt the balmy embrace of the sun caress your bare skin. What wouldn't you do to stand outside right now? Rooted to the spot like a plant that's finally being nourished after days in the darkness. To feel it on your face; on your chest; down your shoulders. To have that breeze carry the scent of disdain away and replace it with the sweet smell of Mary-golds the gardener grew this time of year.

You'd kill for the world to be busy again. To watch dog owners walk their pets and tiny kids ride their bikes. To hear the traffic in the street and eavesdrop on meaningless conversations that had nothing to do with the pandemic. 

Right now. At this moment. You'd die to have some company from an actual human being. Even your annoying neighbour who always speaks to you in French when they're well aware you don't understand a word they're saying. Or even the post man, who stopped coming by since they laid everyone off. Literally any one. You'd die to give someone a hug. A kiss. A high five. Just to feel flesh, that isn't yours. 

Maybe if you owned a pet you wouldn't feel this lonely. But not a dog cause they'd pee all over your room. A hamster. Or a fish? Just anything to keep you entertained aside from the demonic device vibrating on your bed. But you got nothing. You got no one. Just the phone. Which honestly, at this point, you can live without, because it has done nothing but remind you of how much you miss the people you text. And how much you want to get out of your own world before it swallows you whole...