Grateful and Greedy for Such Brutal Boredom

Summary

The text reflects on the paradoxical beauty of solitude and boredom as catalysts for personal growth and creativity.

Abstract

The poem "Grateful and Greedy for Such Brutal Boredom" delves into the theme of finding gratitude in the midst of a monotonous existence. It suggests that an empty, uninspiring life can paradoxically be the fertile ground necessary for meaningful development, much like a barren field is required for a majestic tree to flourish. The author ponders on the idea that the absence of stimuli can lead to a profound appreciation for existence, acknowledging the necessity of contrasts such as heaven and hell or bliss and suffering. The piece conveys a personal journey of learning to navigate the depths of stillness, which can be as overwhelming as they are enlightening.

Opinions

The author believes in the transformative power of boredom and solitude, viewing them as essential for the cultivation of true beauty and strength.
There is an acknowledgment of the lack of guidance received regarding the challenges of dealing with the overwhelming nature of stillness and emptiness.
The poem suggests that the most profound truths and the genesis of beauty often emerge from the most mundane and uneventful circumstances.
The author expresses a sense of isolation in their journey, yet also a triumphant note of resilience and adaptation, as they learn to 'swim' in the depths of their own thoughts and experiences.

a poem about trying to be with just yourself and the blank page

One Hundred Days of Gratitude. Twenty-Seven.

Sorry, tell me again how does that one go?

Something about how it takes an empty field for a true tree (or anything good) to grow.

What was it? Something like if nothing was nothingness, then nothing could exist?

No heaven without hell or bliss without all of this.

Who said that thing? About how everything beautiful starts as something boring?

Because while I whole-bleeding-heartedly agree, I missed the one where anyone told me (mentors / teachers / friends / mothers or fathers)

That you can still drown in such still waters.

Still, spitting up and sucking in at least I’m finally learning how to swim.