“I’m bored.” This one statement, consisting of a mere two words, is immense in its degradation of all the sparkle in life. With the utterance of just one declaration of discontent, a phrase I hear far too many times in a day, I cannot help but to further question why individuals feel this lack of thrill in the present moment. While I have definitely commented about boredom in the past, sighing deeply in a desperate cry for exhilaration, I have never truly been incapable of seeking an opening to expand my curiosity. I realize that with every beat of the heart and blink of the eye, we as human beings have the ability to absorb enough of an instance in time that should foster a constant appreciation of all that occurs.

Even in the most isolated scene of life, such as a blank room with a single wooden stool, there is ample to be said in one’s thoughts and atmosphere, forever stripping away the addictive entity of boredom. In that room serves four walls of a blank canvas, and one is given the tools to construct, bounded solely to her capacity to create. With a stool lies the choice to sit in any quadrant of space and contemplate the immaculacy around, stimulating thoughts unattainable in fast-paced routines. However, for those lacking deep reverie, the stool could be a weapon to break down the oppressive exterior. There is also the ability to neglect the stool’s existence and regard the area as a place of mental, or even physical, exertion. The limit in expanding a room of nothing into a thriving spectacle is relatively limitless. 

There are countless ways to escape boredom and though I could list the infinite ways in achieving invigoration, what I find brightens my life may dull another. Boredom, however, is an act of willful servitude and whatever way one escapes its hold is legitimate and necessary.