Stop being so damned entertained!

we've come to a dangerous place of expectation; we lie and live in our worlds of entertainment and
lose our innate ability to be frank and honest with each other. "Human" is no longer extraordinary.
All conversations are doomed to be boring.

:::
Rising expectation is an idea that I first read in the very beginning of the play Faust. The manager talks about not being able to please the crowd becuase the last show was so good and now this time, they'll all expect something even better. It's gotten to a point where it's not a good show anymore people want, but just to be wowed and surprised further. Their hunger for extraneous and outlandish drives and soars but will always surpass the entertainer's ability eventually. There's a point when it cant get better. Peoples' interest then take a dive and they wont care, which is tragic.

I think we do this in normal life as well, and not just in entertainment. Sometimes we get so used to being thrilled in our internal worlds lushed out by watching movies, reading great books, etc.. so that just talking to someone is boring.
It really shouldn't be. We want a car to come crashing out of the ceiling and then your super strength arm to lash out just in the nick of time to save their life.
We want drama and extremes, we want things to move move move fast fast fast. go go go like there's no time for pauses or lingering thought. Get to the point, make it loud, make it so BOOM! in your face. exciting WOW
never just two people chatting plainly and having a great time (in their faces AND in their hearts)

dad.

Being a girl growing up without a dad is like being a big complex machine missing one tiny bolt. Most of the time, the machine works and apparently has no problems. But, every once in awhile, it fucks up and no one seems to know why. You can’t trace something that miniscule and hidden, it’s one of those small pieces that seems so insignificant. Yet, the bolt is doing so much more; it is a central piece, a lot of things about the machine are banking on it working, and just being there.
The malfunction seems so harmless in its nonchalant prying apart of your soul, not flagrantly, not massively, but still prying.

purpose of tragedy.

What would you do if everything were as “perfect” as you imagine the world is supposed to be? How do you know that all the bad things that happen aren’t just normal and that world where everything is in order is just a dream?
If everything fell into place: people never got divorced, cars never broke down in the middle of the interstate, dads cared for their children and stuck around their whole lives, no one committed murder or suicide, no one bullied anyone, a four year old doesn’t get terminal cancer, no one takes what isn’t theirs, manufacturers made food with the public health and well-being as their foremost concern, no one deceives you towards their own advantage… if all these things and more (the countless other atrocities) went away, could you really say our world is still our world? Is it beyond human nature? Maybe life is not about achieving order and control and complete peace. Maybe it’s simply impossible. Maybe no matter what we try, people will always have something really shitty happen to them. Someone will die young, or get disabled. Someone will be molested or raped. Someone will feel undermined and insignificant to his or her parents. On and on.
Maybe a backdrop of tragedy is what defines our race; we overcome most of it and define ourselves by the scars left behind. We become so-called better people, stronger people.
Wouldn’t we be too bored without tragedy?