boredom, dissonance

Photo by Sam J on Pexels

everyone is so fascinated by everything 
as if common boredom were a crime 
it’s all right to be unimpressed — 
enthusiasm shouldn’t come so cheap 
top shelf words get thrown around 
to describe things that are just okay 
when did the universe become so amazing? 
when did having a fat stack of neurons become a miracle? 
smart primates treat other smart primates like shit 
and still get worshipped 
we get on our knees and pray to gods who don’t deserve it 
life can suck and still be livable 
humans can be revolting and still be loved 
not everything needs to be fucking brilliant 
hell, your punctuation doesn’t have to be flawless for me to get the point 
your heart doesn’t have to be heavy to make an impression on me 
and even the slightest among us can leave their mark — 
so let us be bored… 
let us waste our time… 
let us pee our pants laughing at things that don’t make sense 
because the banal can still be holy 
and the sacred can still let us down 
it’s a paradoxical place, this planet 
and your dissonance sounds good to me

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Garbage Notes:

It annoys me sometimes when people get so excited over stuff that’s just whatever. Like, not everything has to be incredibly amazing or awe inspiring. Sometimes things are just okay or even boring and that’s fine. Life is about the highs and the lows and a whole lot in between. And this poem is about coming to terms with all the stuff in the middle.

When it comes to reactions, we are a species of extremes. The hyperbole of our expression is kind of jarring when you think about it. Everything now is brilliant and everyone is a genius. We’re all hilarious. And every single life is so damn fascinating. And if it’s not, it’s the worst fucking thing or it makes you want to die or it’s like you literally can’t even…

Can’t even what? Can’t adequately express in words the essence of the mediocre? It’s almost as if middle of the road is the worst possible thing. But maybe it’s actually not. Maybe mediocrity is what it looks like to try. Maybe mediocrity means you used to suck and now you’re getting better. Or maybe mediocrity looks like someone who has had a setback and is now actually doing something herculean just to get by.

We have to be patient with the idea of people doing their best, even if it’s not the greatest thing we’ve ever seen.

We worship excellence too much. Famous people are like gods because they are at the top of everything. Professional athletes—people who literally play a made up game for a living—are among the highest regarded human beings on the planet. And outside of luck and knowing other famous people, little separates writers on the bestseller lists from the talented nobodies suffering in obscurity.

As the poem says—our enthusiasm shouldn’t come so cheap.

I’m all about finding the beauty in the tragic, finding the love amidst all the pain. Finding a heart that’s lost in darkness. But I have to admit, we are very egocentric creatures. And a lot of it stems from the false superiority we feel from being at the top of the food chain.

We think we have the most highly evolved brains in the universe. But that’s not true. Big brains, sure. Brains capable of making language—yes, let’s congratulate ourselves for that. We’ve landed on the moon and we’ve figured out the whole internet thing—wonderful. Dinosaurs got nothing on the fucking internet. But we are not the pre-destined endpoint of evolution. And you, in all your fabricated glory, are not at the center of everything. We are an accident. And we shouldn’t forget that.

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Franco Amati 2023

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