Vicarious

Last week I saw Ice Princess with my siblings and some miscellaneous hangers-on. It was really very good (not quite as funny as Princess Diaries) and like all good films it was about relationships, conflict, and of course, passion. The protagonist had passion worth fighting for; enduring pain and sacrifice to do something that made her feel alive, strong, and beautiful. I think it is passion that draws me to films, television shows and books like this, my own desperate search for passion, for something worth living for. My own life is utterly devoid of passion, so I seek it out vicariously through immersing myself in fictional stories of passion, particularly in fantastical forms. When I watch these things I identify with the characters and there struggles, gaining some kind of catharsis from a mundane life. Often these characters feel every bit as real to me as the actual world I live in, prompting me to wonder how this vicarious existence has effected my real one. How much has Babylon 5 or Dune changed the way I see my surroundings? Is the ready availability of vicarious sources of passion preventing me from finding one in my physical life? Does it explain why I'm unable to integrate myself into any of the many social situations I experience, trapped as an accepted, but unthought-of of observer?

I have no dreams,
so I borrow the dreams of others and wrap them around myself/Linus's
blanket curled about my bare feet to keep out the chill of a hurricane/hold me
peacefully in its eye until
it returns me to the bare coast I came from/my feet are still cold.