I've begun the long delayed endeavor of completing the novel. It is still quite meandering, vague, not on theme, not dreamy enough.
What's got me thinking about it is Bailey's journal entry. She wrote about first loves, and how one never really gets over them. That they are some sort of psychological yardstick - or impediment - depending on how one chooses to view them.
Bascially this is a central theme of the novel - first loves - whether it be girls, boys, rock bands, celebrities - and how a complete association and indentification with them mutate them into being larger events laden with personal "meaning" much more than what they originally were - our psyches ferment them into something occultish that can completely rule and define our lives - and the dangers of this reaction.
It has become endemic to the American pop culture "way of life" : Everyone's a big fan of something OTHER THAN THEMSELVES...turning away from the reality of a life lived constrained by the consequences of seemingly innocuous past decisions - that path toward living one's life honestly in light of the hard truth of the ordinary....
I also think such life it is a reflection of a deep fear of the personality and one's indentity - beyond the mere accoutrements of indentity like fast fashion, branding, and consumerism - I am talking about that fear of one's mallability undermining the fundamental certainty of WHO WE think WE ARE.....
a first love is like a scab beneath a band-aid of memory:
we fear the pain pulling it back - to "heal" it - or dread losing its defining mark on us -
and in turn risk losing a part of ourselves.
What's got me thinking about it is Bailey's journal entry. She wrote about first loves, and how one never really gets over them. That they are some sort of psychological yardstick - or impediment - depending on how one chooses to view them.
Bascially this is a central theme of the novel - first loves - whether it be girls, boys, rock bands, celebrities - and how a complete association and indentification with them mutate them into being larger events laden with personal "meaning" much more than what they originally were - our psyches ferment them into something occultish that can completely rule and define our lives - and the dangers of this reaction.
It has become endemic to the American pop culture "way of life" : Everyone's a big fan of something OTHER THAN THEMSELVES...turning away from the reality of a life lived constrained by the consequences of seemingly innocuous past decisions - that path toward living one's life honestly in light of the hard truth of the ordinary....
I also think such life it is a reflection of a deep fear of the personality and one's indentity - beyond the mere accoutrements of indentity like fast fashion, branding, and consumerism - I am talking about that fear of one's mallability undermining the fundamental certainty of WHO WE think WE ARE.....
a first love is like a scab beneath a band-aid of memory:
we fear the pain pulling it back - to "heal" it - or dread losing its defining mark on us -
and in turn risk losing a part of ourselves.