After such a mad dash through the
minutiae of adrenaline-driven reactions
in a fantasy world seen from a teenage
perspective – and denied the pleasure
of reading book 3 as my daughter is
still busy with it
I am left with ashes, the fires of the
characters’ play-house emotions burnt
out leaving the reader with nothing to
take on our various versions of Pilgrim’s
Progress, the excessively handsome
protagonists gone
Their artificial emotions in response to angels
and demons in conflict, their superficial life-
threatening injuries which heal immediately
showing no correlation with reality - left no
imprint on my psyche, wrought no changes
in my ideas and feelings
No catharsis experienced, a meaningless
romp through an imaginary world where
the storybook interactions of the super-
human characters are woven through
the tale like a silver chord shining in
the limelight of adjectives
The theatrical effect adorned with strobe
lights and applause and afterwards there
is nothing to take along, nothing changed
in my world view – since my purpose is to
understand society’s shortcomings and
finding ways to change these
I resume my quest albeit with a sigh, escapism
is such an addictive drug, such a wonderful
thing, a moment of repose in the light of a
dream for which there is always space
according to quantum physics with its
postulate of infinities
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