Mar 2
I Caught Ennui
Someone send help please.
I’ve got ennui — or is Baudelaire’s spleen? I don’t know the name of the disease, but it’s here, and it’s munching on my soul.
Ennui is the French for bored, but there’s something more dramatic and grandiloquent in ennui. One is not simply bored, one’s soul has ceased to feel and has dipped its metaphorical toes into the pool of nothingness.
I sit down at my makeshift desk and watch the melting snow drip in between the boards of the deck. The worst of winter has passed, and we can look forward to Spring. It’s a new hope, isn’t it? People start dreaming of summer again, make grand plans, and fall in love.
I never liked Spring. I can understand its beauty, and I do enjoy its sunny days, but something is missing. There’s a grim apathy after the cold winter.
Maybe apathy is what I have. There’s so much I want to do or say, yet I feel off. Dimmed. There’s no fire in me.
Suddenly I’m uncertain about everything I thought I knew. Suddenly, my words don’t mean anything. My articles are rants, and my thoughts are abrasive.
Ranting is somewhat an issue at the moment. Every day, I start one or two new articles, quickly they do turn into whining sessions. I feel illegitimate no matter the subject.
Is it experience speaking, preventing me from posting something mediocre, or my inner-saboteur enjoying its hold on me?
I’m confused, exhausted, indifferent… I’ve caught ennui, and I don’t know how to get myself out of it.
Do you ever get ennui?
While I’m staring into the emptiness instead of working, you can catch up on my other pieces here:
