It is a prison. Life, if not taken advantage of, becomes a jail cell in which we enslave ourselves. Victimizing our lives and choices is our way of not living life and giving an excuse for it. The guilt of knowing that one’s life has been utterly wasted to the oblivion of the past is beguiling. Is it easier to simply go with the flow? How shall we know if we don’t try it? It is also possible that we become hooked on indifference and inaction. If all our lives share the same destiny, death, what is the point in fighting for individuality?
Like Oedipa, we could “carry the sadness of the moment with her that way forever, see the world refracted through those tears…” (11), which is when we ponder and dissect our guilt into something we long to liberate from. There is a certain comfort in knowing that all one’s experiences have not been one’s doing, and thus, all disappointments and failures are not our fault. That’s truly heartening, for there is truly nothing to be gained from the past, right?
No comments:
Post a Comment