Paper Towns

The studious approach, diligent digests, a plan, a routine, generally adhered to in order to achieve goals later in life, like minded friends similarly striving, the goals they modestly pursue leaving them cast out of their high school's rigid social convective, commentating on the fringe, two-thirds of the trio romantically handicapped, steady textbook longing, The Stars of Track and Field, aloof in their unheralded excellence.

Chaotic casserole.

Quentin (Nat Wolff) has been in love with the free-spirited Margo (Cara Delevingne) since childhood, when they were close, and although their paths no longer frequently cross, she shows up at his window one night enlisting aid, to humiliate those who have unjustly wronged her.

Vengeance.

Competing ontological truths.

She disappears shortly thereafter, leaving behind a set of clues, clues which Quentin and his friends follow, in a salute to surefire Summertime spontaneity.

Can the wild and the timid synthesize their dialectic as one?

Or will alternative pressures crush their holiest of unions?

Paper Towns is alright.

Somewhat tame, but that fits with its bourgeois aesthetic.

But is the pursuit of high grades and professional success indeed tame?

Turning such pursuits into a riveting film is tough to do without seeming tame, but the rigour and dedication one has to apply to their life, the sacrifices they have to make, their tenacious time management, necessitates a factual fortitude, often not possessed by the purely tame.

To pass those tests achieving high scores demands strict obedience, to be sure, but without a resounding will to live, to succeed, predicated upon expansive desire, untethered in its imagination, such goals seem fleeting at best.

The hunger for knowledge.

Information hunger.

Boldness is a must.

The unacknowledged thrust of true stoicism.

Which also reserves time to relax throughout the week.

There's a wedgie coming on.