"I am the lazy person"...rough draft for presentation

The indolent but agreeable condition of doing nothing

Laziness

I am the lazy person. I do not think positively and I do not think negatively; I simply squat in the dull and lifeless grey of my mind. I do not wait for anything and I do not want for anything. I take the gift of this thing we call life for granted. I do not reflect nor allow my thoughts to engage with the possible comings of the week or with the things that have come to pass. I am avoiding, at all costs, the prospect of work. I am not taking a break from anything that I have done or preparing myself for something that I will or must do. I don’t want to do anything, and therefore I do not do it. I do not wish to exert any effort into a particular task. I have no desire to rest now and then throw myself, body and soul, into the paces of work, be it of the mind or of the body. Neither interest me. I lack passion, enthusiasm and the desire for the engagement of my brain to another or to an external force that grips, inspires, and then brings me to a state of intense interest. Instead I simply find boredom in all things because I cannot apply myself to something productive or that which could develop and stretch my potential abilities. My potential alone does not concern me. It is unimportant; I do not think upon it as I cannot bring myself to face it and the numerous possibilities open to me. Instead, I sit with my back to all feasible situations that may demand something from my mind or spirit, selfishly happy with the poor condition in which my being rests.

“The morality of work is the morality of slaves.”

I may happen to lean over the desk of an absent friend to catch a glimpse of this sentence, free for my reading in an open book. But I do not think to break down the meaning of the word ‘work’, and consider the possible differences. Work, is a negative word, in every sense, and thus breeds negative feeling. I do not want the placid state in which I slouch to be disturbed. I wish to remain a lake, untouched and unmoving, no gentle breeze disturbing my waters as a damp and heavy mist rests forever on my surface. I therefore live in my potential’s vast shadow, and though visible, I ignore it. I do not “ask myself what makes me come alive, and then go and do that.” I do not question others, and I do not question myself. The drive within me to do so does not exist, and I cannot imagine that it exists in any other because I am not aware of any other soul's possible thoughts.

But, if I were to take a moment and consider my lazy condition, I think, (with some effort), that I would be able to define a clear difference between myself and the idle individual.

My friend arrives home from work, at six o clock in the evening. She looks at me, seated at the table, no different from the hour that she left but for a plate of empty food and a mound of untouched magazines and newspaper cuttings, pushed to the corner. She is exhausted, but her eyes are glittering with life, a sparkling love for this life, and a certain happiness to which I cannot relate. She puts away her things, removes her coat and sits in the seat opposite.
“I am glad to be home” she says, and rests her feet against my lap. She is happy then to simply talk with me, about nothing in particular, without a thought to anything that she has done during her day. One might think that, at this point, she is ‘being lazy’ with me. But her ‘doing nothing’ springs from a certain need to do so. I do not need to do so.
I can see that she has worked hard, and has thus earned the right to sit in the ‘agreeable condition of doing nothing.’ I have, not earned this right.
She understands that to do so is a privilege, yet I do not.
I simply do not care, and do as I please without predetermining the possible consequences of this.
My friend has respect for the balance that hard work can give, and also for the acceptance that to simply sit and be, is enjoyable, because of the work done prior to doing so. I do not think to understand this, and furthermore disregard the idea that, to fully enjoy the one I must respect and appreciate the other. For me, life is lived in “the habit of resting before I (you) get tired......”

....But I would not entertain the possibility of exhausting myself on such a complex matter. My blatant ignorance to such things would not allow it.

And so I have nothing to do, because I cannot be bothered to do anything.
And in this constant state, I am happy to feel nothing more than the familiar numbness about my brain and hollowness within my heart.