A Bubble Floating Through Emptiness


To reality hop.
Can I hop through different realities, please?
I really don’t want to be here.

Be in an anime, or a movie, a fantasy world. To come and go and leave and as you please.
Put me under, into the dream world, go down the rabbit hole, escape.

When I think about you, the world flips inside out and nothing makes sense. I want to run away.
In to psychedelic colours, grunge textures and linkin park songs. I lose touch with reality– this can’t be real, what is real? This is not my reality, I reject it. I don’t want to be here.

There must be somewhere else I can go. How can this be all there is? How can this be my life? It’s not mine, I reject it. I want to go back to there– that felt real, that’s where I want to be. No, that’s where I am. Who closed the door, the door to narnia, to nivarna, to bliss, to home? Why am I stuck in this place, in this shell, in this meaninglessness, in this emptiness?

I feel no attachment to this world, this realm, this reality– it’s not reality. No attachment, no bond, no relation, no investment. It’s not so much that I don’t want to be here as how much I want to be somewhere else– I’m lost. There’s a taste of reality, a taste of home– no, Home– a taste of heaven, I remember. I’ve been there before. Why did it go, where did it go? Who stole my keys and shut me out, threw me out?

How do I get back to reality?
How do I get back home?

Must I stay here, in this prison without walls, bidding my time, and waiting, hoping hopelessly that one day I will escape, one day I will be home again, and reality will be real?

Which is the reality? Is the reality I crave but a dream, a drug, an escapist’s delusion? Am I binded and intoxicated by a dreamy haze? How can things be so contrary– why does my definition of reality differ from yours, is reality relative?

Seeing you, meeting you turns my world (what world?) topsy turvey.

I don’t understand that, but I don’t understand anything.

I am a bubble, floating through emptiness, waiting desperately to

pop.

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It just has to make sense


I’m going to watch avengers with some friends and they insisted that I should watch Thor, Captain America and Ironman as preparation, so I watched Thor and captain America two days ago.

As I was commuting today, my mind was wandering and I found myself thinking about the movies. I still didn’t understand why Odin stole Loki. How is stealing the child of your enemy’s leader going to help with bringing the two kingdoms together? And why isn’t grownup!loki blue and why doesn’t he look like his race at all?

While thinking all that, I was reminded of what I kept repeating to my ex in my email, back at the start when the break up saga was just beginning: it just has to make sense. Show me how it makes sense.

I mean, we don’t even have to talk about proof. It just needs to be coherent in-story. Even if I’m watching, reading or understanding from outside of that framework (as we all are when we read or watch fantasy or sci-fi), I should still be able to make sense of it. It just needs to hang as a coherent story. Tell me the premise, tell me the rules and off we go.

When you read Harry Potter, you don’t fault the story by saying “They can’t do that, there’s no such thing as magic.” That’s one of the premises we’re starting with, that there is such a thing as magic. But you can fault it for inconsistencies. You can fault it for not following it’s own rules, or not having any rules. A fantasy story’s not much fun if the characters can do anything whenever, making up new rules as they go along with minimal or no explanations.

Isn’t it a mark of a well written premise if, the closer you inspect it, the more questions you ask, the more you find that it hangs all together? That not only are there answers to the questions you’re asking (Why is Loki not blue? How exactly does a time turner work?), the answers are satisfying ones that are consistent and coherent with everything else in that universe?

Reality should be the best at this because it’s reality. You don’t have to make sure it fits, make sure it’s consistent. It already is! If your reality is inconsistent, you can know that it must be your interpretation that’s suspect, and not reality itself.

If this story you’re telling me is reality, why does it seem to make less in-story sense then brainless action movies? Why does it make less sense the more I stare at it? Why do you have to do the same acrobatics a back-peddling author has to do if he discovers he made a mistake, a loophole or contradiction?

If it’s my interpretation that’s wrong, why is it so hard for you to help me see where I went wrong? My invitation still stands… I just want to understand.