Go Do It Then

I’m so fucking bored all the time. My classwork and homework are easy. I get it all done in minutes. I work out daily, hangout with people daily, and I still have so much free time. I know this sounds like a dream for a lot of people, but this is torture for me. Wake up, workout, do homework, socialize, repeat. I can’t take it anymore. This is way too easy.

I am a freshman in college, I’ve made good friends, I’m in a fraternity, I get some action from girls but nothing special. I play sports, often, and I’m in good shape. Financially, my family is doing well, and my parents love me. I have a great base for life. But I have no idea what I’m doing, or what I am going to do. I have a dream, but it seems so unachievable, so far away, like there is no way I am going to be able to do that, to get there. And all the while, I feel like all I do is waste my time, doing pointless schoolwork for pointless classes, exercising my body for nothing, and attending social interactions that have zero payoffs besides the fact that it is a social interaction. I feel like I’m losing my mind. I have no purpose in life, I’m just floating.

And I have no reason to take initiative and do something, no motivation. Everything I am doing is seemingly satisfactory to society, to my parents, to everyone. Like this little amount of work I do, this tiny, easy, insignificant life I live is me doing a great job. It’s not. I feel like a fraud. And I don’t even know what to do, to rid myself of this feeling, to fix my problem. It’s as if I have no problems, and that’s my problem. All the while I feel guilt for even thinking these things because I know how blessed I am with the life I have.

I have no fucking idea what to do, I guess I have to just hope things will come to me, and wait for them? What the fuck.  

It’s like everything here is numb and complacent, and it makes me crazy. There’s nothing going on here. I don’t want to wait for real responsibilities until I am an actual adult, I want it now. I want something to drive me. I want to feel like I actually need to do something. I’m tired of creating my own problems just to have something to solve. I want a real challenge. This whole rant can be also seen as a blessing, and I know I see it as well, but I feel like I’m drowning in a pool with no water.

The boy left that day. He left the university, left his friends, left everything he had. This life was not for him. No, he did not end his life, thankfully, but rather changed it. He moved to a metropolitan city, rented a shithole apartment, and was able to cover rent with the money he had saved up over the years for a few months. He figured he would be able to figure it out by then.

There was no turning back at this point. He left his comfort. His nest. Discomfort was something he sought out, something he never truly felt in his life.

His parents no longer supported him, nor did they support his decision to leave school, but they still loved him.

Now, in most cases, an awkwardly tall 19-year-old white boy with very little money in an expensive city with no job and a dream doesn’t make it out of that state. But this guy got lucky. Really lucky. He was born with that luck.

The boy found a very cheap apartment in terrible condition in a great area of the city, and with a few friends and family he had there, the first week was not terrible. He searched for jobs online and in-person during the day. After about five days, he found a job as a bus boy for a four-star Italian restaurant. It did not pay well, but if he were to become a waiter, he would be financially stable enough to pay his rent, with a bit left over to survive. He hated his job but loved having to be somewhere. He knew he couldn’t miss work, that he depended on the job. And he was determined to be the best damn bus boy there is.

Meanwhile, while he was not working, he found a public park where he could play basketball and exercise. He was there almost every day. Also, he found a couple of clubs where they had open mics for stand-up comedy. The boy wanted to be a filmmaker, but also enjoyed doing stand-up, he realized after he moved. His friends always told him he should try it out, so he did.

The boy enjoyed his days but started to get lonely. He saw the family he had in the city somewhat often, but only for meals. He hung out with his friends not as often as he couldn’t afford to go out to bars and clubs anymore, he couldn’t even afford going out to restaurants.

A few months passed, and the boy found his days were filled up with work, stand-up comedy, and writing for a small audience blog he got involved with on social media. He enjoyed his new life, but missed his old one, especially the simplicity of it. Ironic, he would think, while scrubbing overcooked meat out of a cast-iron pan.

After another couple of months, things started to change. The boy was promoted to a waiter after a previous one quit to open a coffee shop on the opposite side of the country. He started getting more money and starting saving. He grew more and more distant from his apartment, missing the nicer things he had in his life, like a washing machine or silverware. He was in excellent physical shape from working out so often at the park and joined a recreational basketball league he learned about from some guys he met at the park. He was starting to get paid for his stand-up. He was funny, and crowds loved him. He quit writing for the blog and began writing a short film. His parents visited him, and it was awkward, but nice for everyone. They asked him how he felt with his move and his whole situation. With a grin as wide as his after graduating high school, he said “I feel alive, again.” That was when his parent’s finally realized college is not for everyone.

A few months later, the boy had a new apartment. Once his parents saw his old one, and saw how well he was doing, they offered to pay his rent for a better apartment for a year while he figures out his life. So, in a nicer apartment, one with his own bathroom, and a dishwasher, he began to thrive. He was making good money waiting; he was great at getting tips. He became popular at the club he did stand-up for. They didn’t pay him well, but he knew he would’ve done it for free, so no need to complain. He was with his friends often, new, and old. And was enjoying life, while also working hard. He was about half-way through his second script for a movie he wanted to make into a film, already having his first one nearly completed.

After another half a year, he had built quite the future for himself. He found a solid friend group he hung out with often. He enjoyed waiting for the Italian restaurant and doing stand-up about twice a week. His team in the rec league placed second, but he already signed up to play next season, which started in a few weeks. He was in great shape and was looking good. He felt real, he felt he had a purpose. His dream was to write and direct his own movie, and he was chasing it. That dream didn’t seem so far away for the boy. He submitted his two scripts to several film festival script competitions, and won one, a prestigious one at that. He had come in contact with several producers of production companies after the win.

Life is good, and life is looking up. He did it. He knew he was going places; it was only a matter of time. He believed in himself, and he knew he couldn’t keep living like he was before. Now, he loves his life, and set himself up for the future. He knows how lucky he is, and how lucky he got. The boy did it, all because he was so fucking bored.