Escaping into Escapism
My mind has been frozen for about two weeks. It’s a weird feeling. I guess you could describe it like, I dunno, trauma or something. I’ve been calling myself PTSD Man: With the power to have PTSD at any moment. A pretty useless superhero, I know. Perhaps he (I) would fit right in with the Mystery Men…
The only thing that has brought me any joy is escaping into escapism.
I’m going all in on this one. I’m currently finishing up pending projects at an outrageous speed; I’m reading books at a ridiculous pace; I’m hanging out with friends & family as if it were my last week on the planet; I’m exploring Miami with I don’t even know how many different girls…
Escaping into escapism.
Everybody is trying to escape something. There’s something about life which requires us to escape it constantly. Many psychologists suggest what we’re escaping is the knowledge of our eventual death. But, obviously, we’re also escaping from ourselves — escaping from our inner torment.
We need to escape the same way we need to eat & sleep. Without our rapid minds becoming preoccupied with some goofy thing outside of ourselves, we would probably go crazy.
This is something I’ve learned creating spectacles for other people, and being a fan of spectacles myself. But now I’m having a weird meta side-effect which is… escaping into escapism. I’m ignoring the things in my life I can not change, no matter how unjust, and diving full in on what brings me pleasure & what makes other people’s lives pleasurable.
I know how to escape & create escapes… And thus, I escape into escapism.