At offbeat teen, we firmly believe that boredom is the product of a boring mind.
(Not that we’ve never been bored, of course, we’re just trying very hard not to be.)
Nor are we the first ones to believe this–though we are a little more rude about it. In fact, the great Gilbert Keith Chesterton believed essentially the same idea. And lived it, too, till his pockets held hours of entertainment. Don’t believe us? Check it out:
I have only once in my life picked a pocket, and then (perhaps through
some absent-mindedness) I picked my own. My act can really with some
reason be so described. For in taking things out of my own pocket I
had at least one of the more tense and quivering emotions of the thief;
I had a complete ignorance and a profound curiosity as to what I should
By this point, we’re muttering “what has it got in its pocketses, precious?” But maybe that’s just us?