I’m reigniting the “Cigarette Burns” series if only for this post on Joe Wright’s Atonement. It may see a more consistent return here and over at …said the blind man depending on other responsibilities thrown at Andrew at myself.
What are the stories we tell ourselves to move forward? What are the lies, the distortions, the platitudes we repeat and remember to let us live through pain, disappointment & drudgery? What are the benefits gleaned when we lapse from reality? What are the handicaps?
We make concessions as we age. We have to. The dreams of our childhood never blossom to their full extent. They rarely spring in even the smallest of ways. We can’t have beautiful faces and lithe bodies and endless adventure and everlasting love smashed together to build a long, perfect life. Our minds will drift into fantasy, into revised pasts and impossible futures if only to preserve our tenuous sanity. We’re doing ourselves a service by embracing imagination and refusing to let life’s potential meaninglessness wholly engulf our psyches. But what of those around us, in their own reveries? Who do we alter, who do we hurt by taking flights off the ground and soaring above reality?