escapism
read a good book lately? been enthralled in the setting? felt like you were living in this fictious world of words and whispers? then you may be guilty of escapism. the divide between fiction and fact is not quite as clear if you really think about it. fiction is a mutation of the experiences and mutations of reality. we interpret facts and make them fiction. we tell stories. these stories are constructed realities which are created by reality as well as helps create the very reality that of its birth.
i love being completely lost in fiction. i love picking up a good book and watching, first amused, and then quickly disinterested as the world around you just melts away into the background of the protagonist and his/her conflict. lost in the constructed reality. makes you wonder about what you know as reality. i mean, reality to you, isn't it just another story, another construction of what we think what is?
reality is very different for me compared with a bus driver, or a millionaire. we decide what we make real and what we deem fiction. the lines smudge. escape seems so comforting. delusions some may call them. but for the heretic heuristics amongst us, we call them good stories.
what is the past and what hold does memory have on it? the past is gone. the past does not exist. it's like a road you keep walking on, but once u look back, the path disappears. there is nothing there but memories of what was right in front of you. recalling the past, is just telling stories.
i love being completely lost in fiction. i love picking up a good book and watching, first amused, and then quickly disinterested as the world around you just melts away into the background of the protagonist and his/her conflict. lost in the constructed reality. makes you wonder about what you know as reality. i mean, reality to you, isn't it just another story, another construction of what we think what is?
reality is very different for me compared with a bus driver, or a millionaire. we decide what we make real and what we deem fiction. the lines smudge. escape seems so comforting. delusions some may call them. but for the heretic heuristics amongst us, we call them good stories.
what is the past and what hold does memory have on it? the past is gone. the past does not exist. it's like a road you keep walking on, but once u look back, the path disappears. there is nothing there but memories of what was right in front of you. recalling the past, is just telling stories.
