Ever been bored out of your wits? Sure you have! Boredom is a plague on humankind. When bored such, what exactly goes on in your head? Can’t answer? Well, that’s okay, neither can I! There are, if you ask me, many side effects of boredom, too many to cite here. Not that I remember all of them, in any case.
Just yesterday I got bored for no apparent reason. Taking in the amount of work I had to do, boredom shouldn’t have found a place on my already full plate. But sneaky and unreliable that it is, it did, spilling everything else no less. In the end, instead of doing my work which really was important, I was entertaining bizarre thoughts which, I might add, is no rare thing with me.
Sometimes I am confounded by just how far I stretch the limits of crazy thinking. It started out normal, with thoughts of fairly-tales and such. When it dived south, I have no idea. One moment I was thinking of the latest animated movie I’d watched, Frozen (which, by the way, was nice in a kiddy way) and next thing I know I was feeling sorry for the characters from all the books I’ve read.
Think about it. These characters have their lives mapped out for them since that very moment the author first conceives their story. They are the author’s imagination, they live that which the author deemed fit.
How’d it feel like if our lives were page-by-page, line-by-line, word-by-word designed for us and we had no say in it? Personally, I’d freak out. When I was done freaking out, I’d get irritated. When I’d be over the irritation, I’d nose dive into seriously pissed zone.
Of course, that’s just me. And people might say that characters are just ink on paper so the point of them going through the motions I think I would in their shoes is moot. Agreed, it is moot. That is precisely why the entire thought line is bizarre. And yes, I am going to dig deep into it. Sanity, I’ve read, is just an excuse to curb madness (or something like that).
Let’s consider a fairy tale for simplicity sake.
There’s a princess, beautiful as is the norm in most fairy-tales. Those of you wondering why so, it’s really simply: Princess is, by virtue of stereotyping, pretty. If that is not so, sky might fall, in book world, that is. (Sky fall equals closing the book with a thump!)
There’s a prince, because most authors want him to be there. No prince means no gooey eyes, no over-the-top (that’s a personal take) machismo and yoo-hoo: we have another Sky Fall!
Let’s jump into what if and what maybe!
What if some princess from some tale, say Rupunzel (It’s a famous tale and whoever does not know of it should, I am not sorry to say to, jump in a ditch) didn’t want a prince to be there. You could say she needed him to get her out of the clutches of the evil woman. Pray tell me, I guess she’d ask the author, why would you make the prince climb up the tower using my hair as rope? Since they happen to be attached to my head, I object! Lord, but one day I think I am going to sit down and dissect fairy-tales with such twists.
What if the evil woman got bored of young age? What if she didn’t like being the bad girl? I say it would be interesting if the characters went on a strike. Like, you know, refusing to play the roles assigned to them? What if every time we read the book, it changed at the whim and fancies of the characters?
Maybe the prince doesn’t want to climb on D day because well, he wants to sleep. A soft bed calls to him, don’t me leave alone, and he, being a guy of honor and all, cannot in good conscience overlook the plea. Personally, my bed calls to me once a week and that is saying minimum.
Maybe the bad girl sees a bad guy and decides to pursue him for a while, letting all else just go to hell. A guy looks at her and her belly flips, butterflies dance. She smiles at him . . . he smiles back and yoo-hoo—fireworks.
Maybe the princess takes matters into her own hands and escapes from the tower? If the guy can use her hair like a rope, so can the princess. And she’s not even as heavy as the guy. If I had to (grudgingly) let anyone pull my hair, I’d rather it be me. Anyone else dare touch them I’ll chop off their fingers, one at a time.
Maybe she doesn’t want to leave the tower? Okay, I take that back. Who wouldn’t want to leave a tower that is a prison of sorts? No one, I say. Then again, a lunatic might. A lunatic princess who likes to be imprisoned, come to think of it I kind of like the idea.
I understand that the hypothesis (if I may call it that) is devoid of logic. In defense I’d say let’s not get logic into the picture here.
The possibilities are myriad. None of them is going to happen though. The story will go as it goes. Alas!
Oh, by the way, as of now I am thinking just how much time must Rupenzel take to wash her hair! Messy business, that!