Curate, connect, and discover
So like, escapism being an inperfect coping mechanism, whatever, Isn’t it crazy that we can construct whole worlds in our head? Like, yeah those are my guys. Yeah they exist only in my head, but they are wholly real and have lives of their own. No they don’t know who I am. Yes I would die for them.
I can open up a comic, or a book, or a show, any story really, and bam, another world. One that feels just as real as ours, yet only exists in the minds of those who read the story. They don’t actually exist in the real world, no matter how much it feels like they do.
It’s crazy man.