Into the Wild

On a day which was just like the last one and the one before that and when you know that the next day would be just the same and so will be the one after that, if you watch a movie like 'Into the wild' you cannot be but drawn into dreams of breaking the monotonicity of daily life. The urge to live a life that is more than about doing daily chores and counting money is bound to sway you. To eat, to drink, to fuck and to shit and to dedicate one's life to making these processes easy and convenient do not stand a chance against hitchhiking your way in and out of nature in pursuit of rich experiences.

Every time I watch that movie, by the end I am thinking that Alexander Supertramp was plain lucky to have died in the wilderness of his Alaska. He could have easily found the way out of that jungle to live a long full life only to discover that he is trapped outside the society which he was avoiding getting trapped in. And to realize that all the society's evils he had been running from originated from a boredom which was not a feature of the society but an attribute of the existence itself. And to reconcile to the fact that the mind, with all its understanding of science and philosophy, still seeks humble approval of vulgar hormones. What would then have happened of our Supertramp?
However, even the realization that the charm of his way of life does not arise out of his life but out of the light thrown on his life by his death traveling back in time cannot keep one from hoping that someday he'll break the invisible shackles of daily life's mind numbing repetition to pursue aims other than those of security and comfort.