Aside from working, there was nothing that I had been doing with my life. I had taken to sitting down and waiting to be discovered; something a narcissist would be good at. There was something about the current world events that would throw me into a routine of excessive sleeping and lengthy showers and other avoidant behaviors. It reaches a point in an “activist’s” life that they begin to make a break from their revolutionary ways. They take to boredom and become inactive; so much so that lately, one might have described me aptly using the imagery of an old lady sitting on an upright chair outside of her hut with her chin sunken deeply into her hand nodding disapprovingly; waiting on the sun to set.
Days were long, and I remained unimpressed; always on the verge of puking in my soup. Always mid eye-roll. I remember the day that Caitlyn Jenner first attacked my social media feed, I looked away from my phone and into the empty Gatorade bottle on my nightstand where I became lost, almost sedated, in my dissent towards the world, and fled to a third shower. It became difficult to imagine that I could eventually escape this season of my life that could offer only great selfies, bad dates and awful trap music. There is something cinematic about this kind of emptiness. The kind that keeps tumblr in business.
Graduation season rolled over. My social media friends began to document in great detail of their accomplishments and pay homage to the Almighty and ‘loved ones’. This was my graduating class. It should have been, if my academic career hadn’t been quite as eventful. I continued to stare at Gatorade bottles and take showers. I began to get annoyed with people and daily tasks. Because they were an interruption to my selfies and vain pursuits. It was getting too hot to write, but that wouldn’t stop me from thinking about writing. I needed to write. I was desperately seeking writing material but was too dispassionate to start.
What is the word for this? Is this how emptiness pans out? boredom? And why was everyone around me feeling this way? Was this the summer that I lost all of my passion?
… Innocent unarmed people continued to be killed, and country music stars continued to flock my city. Blue ombre continued to be a thing and dancehall music kept me sane through it all.