A question of reality

Not sure why I decided to blog again, or feel the need to broadcast my thoughts on the web. Nowadays it's hard not to question my motive. Or whether the desire to be heard compromises my need of privacy. My business is my business. The political season compelled me to do it.

Lately there are talks and analyses of the "web life." Shows like QuarterLife has taken our generation's love & hate obsession with the web, and portray it on the TV screen. I'm curious, and slightly disgusted at the way the desire to be real has taken a very dramatic turn. Like watching a car crash over and over. It's sick, but so alluring. There is something about the way watching someone fail that is very beautiful and mortifying. Maybe the need to find that outlet of extraordinary compels us to become spectators of folly. Of failure. As if that heart-palpitating, sweat-provoking, knee-jerking rush of imaginary metal objects flying across, while you're about to hit pavement is the only source of excitement in our lives. To make us feel alive. Or just have a Life.

Maybe we're called the generation of complacency, or living by proxy. We live through the "screen" without experiencing the real thing. "Reality" breathes for us now. We've been fed with a silver spoon and we regurgitate everything.

Sometimes, the only time I feel reality hit is when I am puking in the bathroom because I have a hangover.