Let’s be honest, if boredom were an Olympic sport, the opening line “Any1 up for a chat, I’m bored” would be its torch relay. It’s a phrase so limp, so spectacularly unenticing, that it deserves its own museum exhibit under “Things That Kill Conversation Before It’s Even Begun.”
Because here’s the thing: starting a chat by announcing your boredom is like walking into a pub, flopping face-down on the bar and groaning, “I have nothing to say, but I needed to say it; now entertain me…” It’s not a conversation starter, it’s a social disaster.
Psychologically speaking, boredom is not the absence of things to do. It’s the absence of meaningful things to do. And when someone seeks out strangers with all the flair of a wilted lettuce leaf, what they’re really saying is, “I haven’t figured out what gives me joy, so I’m outsourcing my personality to you.”
This is not to be cruel. It’s to be accurate. People who broadcast their boredom are not necessarily boring people, they’re just caught in a mental rut. But here’s the kicker: saying you’re bored rarely makes you more interesting. It simply announces that you’re holding a blank canvas and expecting someone else to paint on it.
Why do we turn to strangers for relief from boredom? Possibly because strangers haven’t yet learned to avoid us. Friends know that when you message “I’m bored,” it means 30 minutes of conversational thumb-twiddling. Strangers, however, are still operating under the assumption that you might be a poet, a philosopher, or at the very least someone with a story better than “I’ve just been staring at the wall for an hour.” If you’re a regular in a chat group, then this is a guarantee that you’re not going to get a reply unless you find another bored, desparate or drunk individual…
But here’s a curious paradox: the moment you rely on strangers to cure your boredom, you place your happiness entirely outside yourself. That’s a bit like asking a passing pigeon to teach you salsa. It might flap a bit, but it’s unlikely to deliver you a good score on “Strictly” and we all know what Craig RH would say…
There is a whole real world beyond the keyboard, filled with fascinating ways to not be bored. Here are some radical ideas:
Talk to your dog. He’ll listen. Or why not even take him for a walk? So many of my dog walks end up with conversations with other dog walkers.
Read the weird book you bought in 2017 and never opened.
Organise your drawer of shame (you know the one !).
Learn how to say “I’m not bored, I’m complex” in five languages.
Stare out the window dramatically while narrating your own life like a David Attenborough documentary.
And here’s a big one: do absolutely nothing. Because sometimes the cure for boredom isn’t more input, it’s less. Silence. Stillness. The profound realisation that if you sit with yourself long enough, you might discover you’re quite interesting company after all.
Next time you feel the urge to write “Any1 up for a chat, I’m bored?”, stop. Take a breath. Ask yourself, “Would I reply to that?” If the answer is no, then put the phone down, pick up your imagination, and go create a life that doesn’t require digital life-support.
Or, if you must post something, try:
“Any philosophers online? I’ve just realised my plants might be judging me.”
Photo by Ruben Ramirez
