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Ok so all points considered...
I see the joy that reading showers the reader with, and the art form, and the significance to one's intelligence, and the plethora of other forms of escapism.
But I still can't shake off this feeling that I can't handle life. That I'm too weak so I need to escape... maybe it's true. And so what! I think I'd rather escape in the tale of a brave 6 y.o. than drugs or the search for Paris' new BFF, both of which will eventually damage my capacity to absorb said tale. So one thing is for sure, if i plunged into drugs/Paris's enthralling life the same way i plunge into books I would certainly not be talking to you guys right now. ( Sorry I am thinking in typing form, and I may have answered my own question, but I'd still like to know what you guys think!)
Then I start thinking of the ancient Greeks and what would be their form of escapism, and I think that was how philosophy and mathematics came about. People trying to find something to do other than thinking about the mundane and boring.
Thoughts?
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