Do we ignore life so much that the truth in writings feels uninteresting? Sometimes a piece of writing has to be hollowed out and filled with mundanity to appeal to the taste- as acquired over a period of time. It could be that life feels so burdened with everyday repetitiveness. Yes, mostly the routine, the lifecycle of thought, and the remnants of consequences stay longer than expected. The spasmodic reactions and daily restrictions of available opportunities pull the reader away from an array of truths that occur in every sentence of sincere writing.
The kind of revolution from a hollow narrative is quite limited but attractive enough to quell the thirst of tired eyes. Unable to differentiate, the eyes glide hurriedly across the unambiguous sentences. They do survive for a while, but their life-cycle is revived by the persistence. Some may even question the necessity to envelope writing in an artistic form and just deliver a tactless story to merely annihilate time. It almost feels discourteous to approach the straightforward drivel and invest precious time; one does not come out of the experience unscathed. To a serious reader, it is a travesty but also creates a distasteful impression.
Why do the precious feelings have to be relegated to an incarcerating place and an unusual void filled with unwarranted sentiments just because it wins applauds from a tired interpreter? Not even a second is spared for the trapped feelings, their future, and how they can become extremely noxious due to negligence. It is an ineffective effort to suppress them for too long and eventually rebel against the individual. The character and ensuing reactions (mostly of hyper-sensitive nature turns life into a metaphorical battlefield). When every possible expression could have been cathartic. Denial and arbitrary decisions can change the entire course of future narratives.