Sunday, December 23, 2012


I’m beginning to notice things—people live in moments, not in spans of time. Or, better yet, we live in anticipations, hopes, memories, and dreams. Why? Because, seemingly, these grounds are better than reality. And, diving deeper, I believe most relationships are built on the foundation of anticipations or memories (in my case, I think it would be anticipations). It is better to share an expectancy with a girl than face the inevitable reality and realize that teenage relationships usually don’t last. And that’s what I’m scared of—the more I think about this, the deeper I submerge my mind in these swirling waters and see that if my reasoning is correct, only some of us actually live in reality. Maybe you flood your mind in religion (which, by all means, is not wrong. I believe in Jesus and the Cross, and respect the duties I am expected to pursue) but if that’s the case, shouldn’t you peek out from the curtain of faith and check up on the world every once and a while? Yet, I am not advocating to a life without Technicolor. These fictional worlds we have constructed to avoid reality have brightened reality to a respectful degree. It truly astounds me. My father evades reality in almost every way imaginable. I sit up here in my room for hours on end, absorbed in this space of crafty reasoning—but am I escaping reality in doing so? I haven’t really thought about it in this sense, but I suppose I am. I’ve seen the cruelty of the world and how it can make its inhabitants wither and fade. My mom hides from the fact that her mother is passing. Realty is gruesome and we naturally want to shove it into a dark closet, lock the door, and swallow the key. Humans have spent so long creating ways to avoid actuality that we can’t define one from another… the dictionary definition of reality is: the quality of being true to life. If I understand correctly, being true to life means to remain true to yourself, and others around you—be yourself? And since when did reality become a quality? I believe qualities are just accessories used to accentuate the emotional and physical attachment humans have sewn to their formidable bond with fictionalism. Pointless words used to dictate human privilege. Divert your sight from your head and center them before you—examine how autumn leaves change color and fall to the dirt. But not seriously—I added that last sentence mainly for metaphorical appeal. However, keeping to the topic, I am beginning to see the light at the end of the tunnel: reality will always be avoided as long as humans have the tools to make it possible. It was almost impossible to dodge the perils of reality in the time of cavemen and monsters—as humanity unionizes and advances and the vortexes in which we can escape to become larger portals to happier times, reality will eventually be a folklore myth and childish nightmare. The future with render reality to be yet another bland word listed in a book of many others. The future will consist of fiction—it will take the high role of reality as reality becomes formally hidden behind the patchwork of centuries worth of struggle. 

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