Paradise Last

How long can you live in a dream? It’s an odd thought but one that has been surfacing in my mind for a while now. I’m not talking about actual dreams (I don’t really have those and when I do they are so boring – usually I’m walking down the street and then I buy some tea bags –  I try to forget them as soon as I can) I’m talking about perceived “happy-ever-after” dreams. The paradise places we would like to ultimately spend our days in with the people we love. Think about it now for a second… If you could leave everything and everyone behind and bugger off to your fantasy location FOREVER where would it be? And who would you go with? A desert island? A log cabin high in the mountains? Guildford?

The reason I ask is because the very thought of that scares me to death. For one very blatant reason, boredom.

I recently saw the Tom Cruise sci-fi film Oblivion (which is basically a documentary about how to blow a film budget on CGI and realise there’s no money left for costumes, script editing or more than 3 members of cast) and without wanting to spoil the ending for you (like you’ll care) Mr Cruise’s character winds up spending the rest of his life living in a wooden shack on the edge of a tranquil lake with his wife. Bliss. Or is it?

Forever. In a shack. With your wife.

Can you possibly put your hand on your heart and say that, even in your dream location with your dream companion, after 6 months you wouldn’t want to scoop out their  eyes with a shoehorn? Even golden boy Tom Cruise would surely be losing it in his shed by the lake. Shortly after the 700th game of shirtless monopoly he would be pouring the remains of his dandelion soup over his head and ramming the little dog and top hat into his ears.

Now, I love my girlfriend with all my heart, I adore the very air she breathes and when we go on holiday for a couple of weeks to explore far away lands I’m filled with unbridled excitement. 10-14 days just me and her enjoying each other’s company and discovering new places, new customs and new things about ourselves. However, if we were alone on a desert island I dare say that it wouldn’t be a huge amount of time before we both tied coconuts to our ankles and walked silently into the sea. My Knock-Knock jokes can only keep our morale up for so long and she’s already heard 60% of the top quality stuff.

“Knock-knock.”

*Sigh. “Who’s there?”

“Mr Parrot.”

“I’m going to kill myself.”

These paradise places that we dream of are really just easy ways for film makers to end their films. They end up together in paradise and walk off into the sunset, fade to black. The only way you can possibly stay sane is by keeping yourself occupied with all the stresses and strains that come with living in modern society, and then the time spent in nice places is all the more enjoyable. So, if you do find yourself at any point in the future at work thinking “this is actually quite enjoyable”, maybe poke yourself in the leg with a fork.

C x

 

 

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