Five Empty Minutes

Remember being bored?

Like— actually fucking bored?

Nothing happening.

Nobody texting. Standing in line looking at...

the line. You'd sit in a waiting room

and read a magazine from 1997

about a celebrity you didn't give a shit about.

Car ride?

Look out the window.

Bathroom?

Apparently we just— went to the bathroom. (hahaha)

That's insane.

WE USED TO JUST BE BORED!

NOTHING TO WATCH, NOTHING TO DO!

Five empty minutes could just exist without somebody selling something to you!

WE USED TO JUST BE BORED!

AND SOMEHOW WE FUCKING SURVIVED!

I kinda miss being bored—

Hold on. Somebody texted me.

Okay, what was I saying?

Right.

Attention spans. I think they're—

Wait,

why did I open this?

I picked up my phone to check the weather.

Twenty minutes later I'm watching a raccoon steal somebody's fucking DoorDash.

Then a guy explains mortgages.

Then somebody falls off a boat.

Then an ad knows I need new shoes.

I don't need new shoes.

Those are pretty nice though.

WE USED TO JUST BE BORED!

NOW EVERY SECOND GETS A SHOW!

Elevator? Phone. Red light?

Phone. Commercial during something?

SECOND FUCKING PHONE!

I'M NOT JUDGING ANYBODY!

I'm doing it right now!

I've got every song ever recorded,

every map ever drawn,

every answer humans ever discovered sitting inside my pocket— And yesterday I

used it

for forty-five minutes to watch a dog

refuse to get in a bathtub.

Worth it.

Maybe boredom wasn't amazing.

Maybe it just gave your brain five fucking minutes

where nobody wanted anything from it.

That's kinda nice.

I should try that.

Put the phone down.

(three seconds) (five seconds) This fucking sucks.

WE USED TO JUST BE BORED!

MAYBE I'LL TRY IT AGAIN!

Give my brain a little empty space without checking something every ten—

“Oh shit, somebody texted me.” “What

were we talking about?”