By Michael Sixto

The story of my life is boring just like the car I drive, the places I go… the girlfriend I still don’t have. The problem, my problem, is not that I don’t care; I do. I just don’t see the point. Many people try and try. Some fail, some make it, bboredom_mediumut still; I don’t see the point. I am a pessimist and I had my heart broken once, just once. She was a romantic and life was beautiful for her. We used to seat for hours just staring at each other without saying a word. Whenever I try to speak she would hug me pointing at the horizon. Her name was Elizabeth. Classy as she was, the name was also strong, as her feelings towards the things she touched. For her I was not boring, y was profound. In any case, this is not her story; it is mine and even with her, I did not care about anything. I guess that was the reason she left me for the butcher. Yes, the butcher. He was also profound in the way he cut the meat I guess. Deep, deep thoughts he had while slaughtering cows and pigs. I felt awfully disappointed after that and decided to become a vegan, another boring thing to do. I am not looking for a girlfriend, but I am sure if I ever find one willing to stay with me, she will be extremely boring… like the car I drive and the places I go.

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