THE ENNUI OF CONVENIENCE

SAVANNAH SELIMI

The concept of the ‘High-School Sweethearts’ makes me feel queasy. Not because of the title’s oversaturated stance in rom-coms, but because it sends me into a pit of overthinking.

Thinking;

About how these two people met in high school. In the same town. In the same city. In the same state. In the same country.

Even in the same Universe.

They must have grown up together, staring at blemished faces, through a million different lenses. A boyband-obsessed fourteen year old lens; an obnoxious eighteen-year-old bloodshoteyed lens, and the ages continue and continue until they die together, staring at the same faces, now wrinkly, and now through greyed eyes.

I’m off track. And depending on your ideations on love, that could sound quite beautiful, actually. This facetious fear of people owing their love to proximity, is just a disguise. That’s not the real thing that causes me useless worry. If I had to give a name to it, what I am most afraid of is the ennui of convenience. What I mean by this is subduing to a life that is so comfortable, easy and predictable - or convenient - that I miss the life behind it. So I suppose I don’t really care about high school sweethearts, as much as I am dumbfounded by the idea that people don’t overthink the convenience of everything as much as I do.

What I know for sure, though, is that I’m not alone in this thought-process. It just doesn’t have a name in the social conscience yet. Gen Z are quite terrified of The Convenient, too. For instance, remember those ‘dream life’ TikToks that once flooded your For You

Page that consisted of middle class suburbia, a heteronormative couple and crying children, then the whole ‘SIKE’ audio, then came photos of glaring city lights, beach adventures and romantic relationships. It seems our aestheticobsessed, coming-of-age- aspiring generation want as little normalcy and predictability in their life as I do.

I wonder why, though? Our parents generation, and our parents-parents generation, seemed to happily oblige to the convenience in their lives. They grew up in small towns, or villages, or big cities, even, and stayed there and grew old. I’m not saying everything in their lives were boring or predictable, but there was this social order that they generally abided to and were okay with. To me, personally, I don’t see this same acceptance of ‘normal life’ in our generation.

Of course, this isn’t a general consensus of our generation but just a glimpse. Of course I have friends who dye their hair pink and blue; some who want to live in different countries; some who quit their jobs just because; and contrastingly I also have friends who stay in the same jobs and love their hometowns, never wanting to leave.

I also have friends who met their lovers in high school, by the way. For me personally, the Ennui of Convenience stems from (over)thinking all the alternate realities there could ever be. I often imagine if I didn’t study at RMIT, where would I be instead? And would this mean I’d have moved out of my childhood home? I’d have different friends; different style; different passions. The ennui of convenience is that simplistically mind-spiralling. Every decision we make has a million outcomes and we’ll never know the difference between them all, so long as we keep living conveniently rather than intentionally.

But, then there’s the thought that if I did go to a different university, or lived in a different place, or had different passions, I wouldn’t have the incredible experiences and friends I am so grateful to have.

Ennui.

Using the metaphor of love, I suppose I’ll be stuck in a time-loop wondering,

Is it more bewildering if someone had a delayed flight, was stuck in a city they didn’t know, headed into a coffee shop they’d never seen before, and ordered a drink they’d never had from a total stranger who would end up manifesting into the best person they ever met?

I think what makes our views on life so different to other generations, is this knowledge we have of the infinite opportunities and pathways of the average human life. This is something I think our generation genuinely digests, like it is their responsibility to seek the best pathways only. According to Google, the distance between Earth and the edge of the ‘observable universe’ is 46 billion light-years. I’m not a scientist, but that is pretty intense a number. Not only does that quantify whatever we mean by infinite time and possibilities, but it sends our minds into a spiral of ‘what the hell should I do with it all?’. Or is it more incredulous that in all the galaxies, in all the worlds, on this very Earth, in this ginormous continent, in this humongous country, in this small city, on a familiar path two people know so well, they crossed each other’s way?

I should probably just go with the flow.