Boredom

I am bored. I bore myself. I began to think too much about this, and it became a mild existential crisis, and now I need to go to bed.

But seriously, if boredom comes from having nothing to do (i.e. being in our natural state of existing...just existing), that means that in our natural state of existence, we are bored...we can't find substantial meaning in what we do...we are looking for stimuli to escape this boredom...boredom is our natural state...it is the absence of meaning...our natural state is meaningless...shit! Life is inherently meaningless! So...we occupy ourselves searching for meaning, and then we aren't bored. Meaning is found in things that make us no longer bored...in things that interest us...in things that we love.

Boom. There's a nugget for you... avoid boredom. I'm going to bed.

Sleep is a passive relief from boredom. Wait...don't get me started.

UPDATE: Thinking about life being inherently meaningless and meaning being found in things that we love, and routing those two thoughts through my previous post about a meaning of life, I would like to make a case that life can't be inherently meaningless, because everyone's life must add meaning to someone else's life. Now I have a whole new problem to solve. Thanks, boredom!