Self-preservation is not a unitary instinct as many believe it to be. Quite on the contrary. Self-preservation is actually made up of a full array of various feelings which may have absolutely nothing in common with the immediate human inclination to survive at all costs.
One of these seemingly alien feelings to self-preservation is boredom. Once it sets in—once you feel overwhelmingly bored by someone or something—it is not your evident lack of interest in the object of your boredom that manifests itself in relation to what has been triggering your sense of boredom but, rather, your faithful instinct of self-preservation, which is protecting you from any harm done either to your sensibility or even to your intelligence.
Let’s assume you are being bored to death by someone telling you a most heart-breaking story of human hardship, misery, and misfortune. If you are by nature a good-hearted fellow, such terrible accounts of human frailty will no doubt cause you a great deal of suffering. In all likelihood, they will leave their sorrowful mark on you quite undeservedly. Your very being’s only solution to this unwanted outburst of empathy, which is invisible even to yourself, is for the (always unpleasant) sense of boredom to kick vigorously in—and save you the trouble of getting involved, by way of yet other misplaced bouts of compassion, any more into the well-known, all-encompassing human wretchedness. Citește mai departe:
Patrick Călinescu este autorul a trei cărți: ”Textul dintre texte” apărută în anul 2003 la editura Aula din Brașov, ”Stele verzi” publicată în anul 2009, în foileton, în cadrul revistei EgoPHobia și ” O carte mai puțin în capul meu” din 2010, apărută la editura Herg Benet.