"However self-indulgent they might be, there's an enduring importance to our romantic flights of fancy. We all need them, whether we're walking numbly through our lives, unaware of our desires, or we're on pins and needles, painfully aware of the contrast between our lives and our imaginations every second of the day.
The stories we tell each other, the hopelessly common little tales about laundry piling up and impending deadlines and planned vacations and recalcitrant contractors and petty squabbles with co-workers, never do justice to the richness of our internal lives. Even though we may only recognize some variation on survival mode in each other, even though we mouth trivialities and small talk, inside us there's a kaleidoscope of emotions, a million and one imaginative leaps to faraway places, along with looming questions and unfocused needs and bouts of nostalgia. We carry around three-ring circuses of hope and regret inside, with sad clowns and fat ladies and graceful trapeze artists soaring through the air, even if the rest of the world sees nothing but one lumpy, forlorn-looking tent."
Article found at the ever-inspiring Salon. The rest of the article is here.
