The urge to flee from boredom or loneliness arises when these are experienced in a space with highs and lows, with alternatives and reflections, the space in short where you are to be found. It is perhaps not the boredom or loneliness themselves that are so intolerable as what they say about you, they are character witnesses for the prosecution in the eternal litigation that goes on about you and that you are. How easy it is to pick up some tempting morsel of pride or self-satisfaction, say about your freedom from other-regarding emotions or some such nonsense, and you have merely affirmed how snug it is to be in this place with its well known amenities. You are an interest and then the interest peels off like a mask and you are nothing again, a naught. Boredom seem flat, as flat as a board, a more interesting word is
ennui, or
noia with its apparent allusion to the family of
knowing words,
nous,
noesis. Boredom is thus an aberration integral to knowing, or rather perhaps
noia is a pure knowing, a knowing so pure that it has no object and references nothing at all, and you are just too coarse to see it. In either case whether with the hard ugly sound of boredom or the soft seductive sound of
noia, or the slightly nauseating one of
ennui everyone will understand why you crave strong medicine, even bitterness or regret, if only to keep the show from slowing.
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