Sunday, January 27, 2013

«Life», existence in the twenty-first century

  «When you grow up, your heart dies» - Ally Sheedy, The Breakfast Club.

  I've mentioned earlier the survey where children using the Torrance Test of Creative Thinking were shown to become less creative the older they get. I can attest to that and more.
  My childhood is very clear to me. I can easily recall events and see patterns of development.
  My friends then were pretty okay for a long time, but then, as they became adolescents and adults I noticed distinct changes. It wasn't just that they became less imaginative, but also that they were less prone to be critical and open, and less the great, exciting creatures they once had been. And they turned less friendly towards those breaking free from the mold. Modern existence… got to them. It got to me, too, I know that, but not to the same extent. We drifted apart, and I have hardly any contact at all with them anymore, and worse: every time I meet them, they look at me as if I am a leper or something, as if there is something wrong with me. I've learned well to recognize that look behind the polite exterior. There is nothing there anymore, no spark, only the force-fed information, the propaganda of that before mentioned modern society.
  Like most people they have become functions of expediency and practicality and hardly anything more. I shudder in horror.
  No horror film has ever scared me much and the reason is clear: we exist in one, one much scarier than any fiction.
  Something needs fixing and it is not children.

  «Dreams can’t die, but they belong to the night» - Amos Keppler, Dreams Belong to the Night.

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