we were just pretending

"I guess I like that idea that you could pretend yourself into new feelings and new relationships. Obviously I'm a big pretender. but the kind of leap where it's almost like some kind of science fiction thing happens. Like we were just pretending, and then what's this? We actually have new powers now, and we see each other differently, and in fact all of life has suddenly tilted. I'm going for that everyday, personally."
~ Miranda July
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The 'Busy' Trap - NY Times →

Busyness serves as a kind of existential reassurance, a hedge against emptiness; obviously your life cannot possibly be silly or trivial or meaningless if you are so busy, completely booked, in demand every hour of the day. I once knew a woman who interned at a magazine where she wasn’t allowed to take lunch hours out, lest she be urgently needed for some reason. This was an entertainment magazine whose raison d’être was obviated when “menu” buttons appeared on remotes, so it’s hard to see this pretense of indispensability as anything other than a form of institutional self-delusion. More and more people in this country no longer make or do anything tangible; if your job wasn’t performed by a cat or a boa constrictor in a Richard Scarry book I’m not sure I believe it’s necessary. I can’t help but wonder whether all this histrionic exhaustion isn’t a way of covering up the fact that most of what we do doesn’t matter.


Good wake-up call kind of piece.

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