Hmph.

I watched Garden State today. For some reason, most movies, especially those that aren't simplistic action/romance, seem to start me thinking. I dunno. For instance, with Garden State I initially hated it. I guess because it was existentialistic in the "nothing matters, my life is despair and empty hedonism." Then, as the movie progressed, it took on a Romantic twinge that seemed more superficial than anything else. The movie itself wasn't too bad after I got used to it, but a lot of that had to do with my enjoyment of things with "purpose"; any sort of adventure that seems to have meaning is endearing to me. Perhaps because I lack that sense of purpose myself. Other than that, the other thought-provoking issue directly related to the movie was the "home" phenomenom. And I guess I'd noticed it too. Home has a sense of "belonging" that is hard to replace. It's not necessarily good or bad, I just feel "grounded" when I'm home. Like there's nowhere else I should be. I can stay here indefinetly without imposing. It's going to be odd losing that. Not as dramatic as the movie made it, but still... different.

At any rate, I also got started on a tangent on reality. I thought my first impression of the movie was so poor because it was "real." And I must say, much of the script was. There were many "awkward silences" that just aren't included in most forms of entertainment because no one likes them. I guess that was the director's intent, to create a "real" feeling despite the somewhat fantastical nature of the characters. Anyway, I started thinking about my inability to stand "reality." I suppose I define reality as boring, undramatic, purposeless; generally existential. Then I started thinking about all of our escapes: movies, TV, books, sports. But are they really escapes or just aspects of a larger reality that includes the imagination? I guess they're escapes from emotion, from the "self" in lieu of reality. But there certainly are a lot out there. Without food, media, or action it's disturbing how little there appears to do that wouldn't qualify as "work." Basically, if you remove escapes, the highlights are work, other people, and love. I'm not particularly sure if that's good or bad. I decry my escapes, saying they dull my mind and emotion, but without them I recall a great deal of angst and purposelessness. Reality seeping in. Oh, it's all too complex.

Wouldn't my journal entries be easier to follow if they simply recounted my day? They certainly wouldn't be as verbose. But there are so many days their individual contents sort of become unimportant. It's the undercurrents that matter. And perhaps I'd rather deal with those. To each their own...