Certain things are never going to change. You look at it again for a second time and realise that it was a rerun; the only difference is the wallpaper. What’s worse is that you won’t ever change, neither will the new things that you encounter.
The realisation of this sucks big time, as it makes you think too far ahead.
Additionally, your mother wants you to think about tomorrow sooner than you’ve anticipated. It’s a demoralising thought that often hinders you from living in the moment. Moreover it ignites the desire to consume drugs or something similar for distraction. And your alternate world, the fictional world, is currently no spot of escape, because there is no story with an interesting plot or dialogue to tell. Reruns are ok, that’s what postmodernism is all about, right? But it’s not easy to keep it fresh and there’s no guarantee that your originality is going to grab anyone’s interest or cause a tickle in his or her no-no spot.
What would you be without fiction, without an alter ego that represents your secret superego? This character may carry all your flaws and also good qualities, and material longings, which you do not possess – that way you can keep track on who you really are and who you won’t ever be.
However, as for now, you’re given the opportunity to make things better this time around. There’s never a point in trying. You just do it, forget you’re playing a rerun; it no longer matters. You cannot change anything except the design of the wallpaper and your own personal theme song that runs in the background.
I’m just better at choosing songs.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *