Lately I have become very bored. I am bored with my job, bored with discussion, just bored. I'm trying to connect, to have a conversation, but it's all fleeting and honestly it all just feels so pointless. It's just not that interesting these conversations. Here's my thoughts, what are yours? Nice to meet ya. See ya later. Neat. What were we talking about? Who cares? My body is falling apart and life has become nothing more than suffering. I used to have anxiety, likely rooted in a fear of dying, but I don't feel that anxious about all the things wrong with my body anymore. If I happen to have a heart attack, oh well, I'm not really enjoying this ride much anyway. Shall we hang ourselves from this tree? Sure, why not? We don't have any rope. Oh well. Reading Waiting for Godot really hit him on all these points for me. What on the surface could be taken as a play about "nothing at all really," so perfectly captures that feeling of boredom, the suffering of living, the feeling of, "what's the point anyway?" Waiting for Godot is life. A long game of simply waiting. Waiting for what exactly? The waiting to be over? Is that what Godot is?