The isolation of my room is an interesting phenomenon. I know several people who read my blog, and people post comments on my livejournal now and then, and I get emails and instant messages and phone calls. But somehow, despite all that, I feel like I'm "in my own little world". I feel that as long as I'm in this room, everything will be ok. and by everything, I mean Everything. The world's pollution won't reach me. The corruption of the government won't affect me. The war around the world won't hurt me. Capitalism won't press me beneath its monstrous greedy fingers. Democracy won't force me to dance to tunes I don't like. Animals in shelters will find homes. Crime will decrease as the police force becomes effective. People will solve their emotional problems and, growing, stop having so many emotional problems. Religious organizations will lead people to positive afterlives without attempting to convince anyone else of their self-actualized damnation. My job will get done. My friends will be happy. I'll start doing things that make me happy. And yet, no matter how long I stay in this room, I can't seem to reach that world I can pretend is outside. and it's because while I'm in this room, I'm not doing anything to actualize that world. Paraphrased, "Dagny, don't you realize that we are infinitely more capable of enjoying this place than they will ever be?" Characters working their fingers to the bone, risking their money, their relationships, their very lives to accomplish something that they feel is important, are the ones who know the meaning of "happy ending" and actually earn it, and deserve it, and can enjoy it. All the rest of the characters, carried by the actions of the heroes, will never be satisfied with the happy ending because they did nothing to help it happen. I have no more words on this subject today.