Does change every really happen? Not in my world. I live in too perfect, too ideal, too predictable a world. Even with magic, lore, and an ancient city that has seen its fair share of inhabitants, everything is as it always has been. I am Kyson Drake, esteemed son, of Kathy and Matthew Drake, grandson of perhaps the most notable Elder ever. I have a legacy, I have a destiny, and I do not like it.
I look around the room, taking it in. I have been gone several months, and it is nice to be home. Nothing has changed, not that I expect it to. The walls are still blue silk, with a cream and silver damask pattern embossed into the surface. The drapes are still thick, rich material of only the finest quality, which is to be expected. The furnishings are heavy, expensive, expertly upholstered. The windows are streak-free, there is no dust anywhere. It is like I have never left. Nothing ever changes. It feels stagnant, suffocating. It feels like home. And here I thought home was supposed to feel comforting.
I am caught off-guard at that thought. I live in a Utopia, an Enchanted land where my every desire is easily fulfilled, and I feel suffocated? My home is luxurious. My decorator has the finest of taste. I set down my bags at the door, stride over to a couch, chosen for both appearances an comfort, and take a seat. I lean back, kick off my shoes, and look around again. No, still no changes, and yet, I hope to see something amiss, something out of place. The room is perfect. My life is perfect. I am bored. I sit up straight; a frown starts to furrow my brow. I can’t help but think about the fact that I want something to be wrong, to go wrong.
If you has asked me ten years ago what I wanted from life, I would have said exactly what I have today. Hell, if you had asked me fifty years ago I would have answered the same. So why today? Why in the prime of my youth do I feel so ugh? I have no motivation. I feel no challenge. Life has simply become too easy, leaving me feeling bored and unfulfilled.
Boredom has a way of eating at people and making them do things they wouldn't have done otherwise. For example, take the child who urinates on their bedroom floor for no apparent reason. Would a kid normally pee on the floor in their bedroom? No, never, but when boredom hits, with a little shove from their friend, you can find them taking aim, and peeing on the wall, on the carpet, or even on the bed.
I know this is true. I have been around long enough to know all of the downfalls of peer pressure, letting yourself get bored, choosing greed over friendship, pursing your carnal appetites, and the list goes on. However, knowing something is a mistake does not stop you from making the mistake. I have grown so accustomed to ignoring that little feeling in the back of my mind that warns me when I am making a bad decision, that it practically does not exist anymore. Not having a conscious is a perk for the way I live my life, but on occasion, the prick comes, and I still ignore it.
What do I care? I have trophy cases full of bad decisions. Literally. I lean back and stretch my legs out once more, then change my mind and make my way over to the hutches, bookcases, and curios that stand on one wall of the living room. Some contain treasures, trinkets, items I have collected during the course of my many travels over the years. Others contain mementos, little things of no real value that remind me of a time, a place, or a person. Many of those are mistakes. Mistakes I will not forget, nor will I regret. I let my mind wander for a moment. I think back to the people I have met, the places I have seen, the choices I have made. I kick myself for wallowing in nostalgia.
What is wrong with me today? I need to get out. To do something. Restlessness is far worse than boredom.
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