Friday, January 09, 2004

Willing Suspension of Disbelief.

I know you will be looking for more explanation than that.

So this is something I wrote recently in my journal.
How tv Fucked me

I think growing up watching so much television may have tainted my point of view. Somehow I think I confused my life with television and the do-over I was expecting was like reruns or something. But the underlying flaw is that it isn’t real. Willing suspension of disbelief they call it. That thing that allows you to be scared when something scarey happens in a movie or cry at the sappy scene. It’s like that’s my life. I couldn’t put aside my disbelief that this life I am living is real. That once I got to the point where I was old enough to have lost my father before reconciling our relationship and felt all the pain and remorse that would bring…I think I actually believed it was then I would get the do-over. Then is now. I see no do over. No matter how hard I think about what my life was like when I was a 5 year old kid…and I can think it pretty damn hard…I can close my eyes and see the sidewalk outside my house under my feet and feel the hot summer sun as I walk through the muggy Cleveland air of my childhood. If I try hard enough I can even smell it. It almost feels like I pass through it for a brief second. Like it’s really hanging out there waiting for me (like my father and grandmothers altzheimers is in this reality) if I could only grasp it as it passes by. But alas, there’s that willing suspension of disbelief practice working against me…because no matter how hard I try to hold on when I open my eyes I’m still middle aged and my father is still wearing diapers.

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