Ever since we are born, we begin forming our world by observing the world. Where else are we going to get this information from? But what happens when the world just doesn't shape up? Some of us are compelled at an early age to seek our world elsewhere. So what's wrong with that? How different is that from the former option?
For starters, the world is all around. It's right there. Just follow the crowd. The other path, of course, was perhaps most famously described by Frost as The Road Less Travelled. Certainly, that poem, or at least its title, represents the alternative to the world sufficiently enough. However, I have conferred with others of like mind and we have determined this much about Frost. That son of a bitch left a whole lot out!
Can we blame him, though? After all, mankind has outdone Frost in mapping the world, long before his famous piece and long since. No, forget that. Astronauts and their scientific brethren have space all sussed out. Religion has managed to make innerspace literal and complete with infrastructure. React to or rebel against these occupations, you fall into places set for you and the picture is complete. Ultimately, the Road Less Travelled is so for a good god damn reason.
Still, we're out there, aren't we? You know who you are. We are still exploring. Whether it be in films, music, architecture or metaphysics, we are still chasing happiness and fulfillment like anyone else. It's like comparing health benefits from various employers. Most of those on the road paved with gold have what I call "The Package Plan". Sure there are bumps and hazards but the bumps and hazards are covered in the plan just as they are for the horde of other subscribers. On the other hand, I can assure you that there is not much support for the biblionaut. Do you know how I know that? I made the word up.
While I have done and continue to do my fair share of adventuring in the aforementioned mediums and disciplines, none have offered me as much refuge as the book. As a self-defined biblionaut, I still venture daily into the space between the lines and between the pages, craving the fellowship and comfort so many are able to derive from merely looking around the room they currently occupy. There was a time when I so desperately sought precedent for feeling how I feel that I would frantically dog-ear, underline and highlight with generous asterisks thrown in for good measure. When I moved back home, from my first apartment, I donated my apartment's furnishings to Hurricane Katrina victims but returned with boxes of my books.
If youve seen the film Inception, you may recall that time in dreams passes differently than time in real life. Well, even if you haven't seen it, I am sure this sounds like a reasonable assertion. That is the basis for why I ultimately derive the most solace from the novel and even more specifically, the graphic novel. If one novel can feel like a lifetime, imagine the experience of serialized works with reoccurring characters. Literary heroes and comic book superheroes exist for the better part of a century in real time. It is impossible to calculate how much time, in any sense of the word, I have spent with certain characters in my imagination. In fact, when I begin to read a given series, I often greet characters as I commence accompanying them on their respective journeys.
At the end of the day, we must define ourselves regardless of which road we have taken. If a role that fits you exists, take it and never look back. If not, search until you find your fit and if you so choose, name it. While I very much find myself in multiple realms of the dreamscape, at this moment I am best described as a biblionaut, a term I invented for the title of this blog.