Sometimes there is a gusto of inspiration coming from stories of people who have overcome trying obstacles and somehow made it through. Amazing stories and it makes life livable knowing obstacles are just bumpy hindrances. Not mountains but just bumps which cars have to slow down and apply low gears to get over them.
But the feeling reside when we have put the thing we read down. It seems at times that inspiration gets stuck in the stories we read. Energy flows whenever we are enraptured and engaged in them but become nothing but faded memories when we try to apply things we read to the mundane life we live.
I feel that way most of the time. It’s totally engaging being lost in the story, may it be real or fiction but reality sucks whenever we submerge from the depth of it. There is a hard time adjusting from stories of hope that we read on paper to be mediated into real life.
Well, it’s something I notice of myself sometimes and maybe you do too. I’m just assuming here that is.
My guess is maybe we are simply tired to imagine the invisible middle, the part of life stories that connect the present and the intended end. I think the living the middle part of life’s stories are the crucial beginnings that would eventually lead somewhere.
For stories in books, written on paper are simply moderated scenes and events compiled to make a coherent flow. Simply highlights that is minus the boring moments that simply are a bore really. Maybe sometimes people think too much that the story is the whole thing but it is not. Reality requires us to live it first before we could actually extract something out of it.
With that though, sometimes its the mundane realities that make us lazy to act and live meaningful lives. We think life should be 24 hours filled with exiting rides. Just like 24 to be exact. Like in a day, in 24 hours it could be a non stop ride of suspense and impact. For a show it is believable but to think in terms of a show also, it is unrealistic based on other shows. Because for me if stuff like that happened there won’t be enough breathing space to breath air.
Anyways these thoughts are just cluttered stuff that have no systematic rhythm whatsoever to those who read them but I guess for me they are meaningful and that’s why I’m at least thinking about them. Too bad I couldn’t weave them into a coherent whole.