2.23.2014

I want to follow the yellow brick road

I lust after lives I read about in books. I lust after places I see in films. I cry over people I have never met. I miss people who do not exist. I fall in love a million times, I get my heart broken, and I get my hopes up only to be dashed again over and over again. I feel regret and embarrassment and butterflies in my stomach just from watching a show.

How can a simple song throw me so off balance? How can one book make me rethink all my decisions? How can a film fill my heart with so much emotion?

How can I be nostalgic for something I never had? How can I miss a moment I never lived? How can I feel more emotion, more human, more alive, while reading a few pages of a book than I can during the rest of my day? Why am I numb to the real life but so sensitive to the fictional world?

Is it a Wizard of Oz syndrome? Do I switch from the grey Kansas to the colourful Oz? How can I switch back to gray, when I got a taste of colour? It’s like having to take food supplements when you’re used to the delicious powerful taste that colours your mouth at the first touch.


I wish I wasn’t in Kansas anymore, Toto.

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