Ville d'Ys (On the Death of Imagination)

I often find myself longing for simpler times. It is important to note that my desire for a simpler life began early in my life through exposure to ancient myths and history which painted a way of life I found immediately compelling, with continued exposure and study only deepening my obsession.

I used to slip into the past freely, a feat accomplished through the tactile representations left to us from our ancient past, the words that brought life to the dead, the art and imagery that provided seeds for visualization, and standing beside walls carved centuries past to sense size and scale in relation to oneself. 

When brought together, these were the foundation of my imaginings; offering me access to other worlds, no matter how brief. 

Over time the visiting these worlds became more difficult. 

It seems as I learned more of the past, the harder it became to conceive. The idyllic worlds I had constructed were destroyed, my personal fiction poisoned. I closed my eyes only to realize that the wonders of my imagination had buckled under the weight of truth. 

Faced with the reality of human history I was forced to abandon the dreams of youth. 

Over the years I have grown discontent with the modern world. I am anxious about the future, the feeling most certainly being a product of age and fear. Though our history is littered with difficulty, it makes sense to me.

I feel disconnected from the future. When I was born today's technology was the stuff of science fiction. What lays ahead frightens me.

Perhaps this is why I still yearn for a simpler time. My desire to escape the modern world has grown, overwhelming me. I feel out of place and incomplete; unable to correct what ails me.  

Knowledge has ruined me. This world cannot sate me. I devour it nonetheless.