9.7.16

I’m shocked at how often my reality does not match what I imagined life would be like. And at how often I let that ruin its goodness and pull me down into despair and disillusion. How silly. I’ve been thinking and sensing a growing conviction inside me and it’s this: dishonest, idealistic, fantasized art is largely to blame. To be completely transparent, I’m talking about love as it’s portrayed in films and media. There really are magnificent, miraculous love stories out there but I don’t ever get to see the whole story. I don’t feel the whole story. Or perhaps I see what I want to see.

Art needs to tell the truth, not entice and seduce people into believing that life isn’t beautiful or worth living if it doesn’t look a certain way. Can you resonate with that?

I already know this. The Bible explicitly addresses it. Like here, “All things are wearisome; man is not able to tell it. The eye is not satisfied with seeing, nor is the ear filled with hearing.” (Eccl. 1:8).

Why do I continue to disbelieve?