"Now this is not the end. It is not even the beginning of the end. But it is, perhaps, the end of the beginning."

Humanity will always prove to avoid or evade any sense of a permanent or even temporary end, capitally death. This notion is hardly a shocking or revolutionary statement, and is considered generally common knowledge. Yet I still find it so intriguing as to how often it applies to life and literature, even at a young age such as my own. Society constantly encounters conclusions to time periods, stages, friendships, romances, and even emotions. Every beginning is followed by an end, naturally, yet once one is confronted with the coming of this end, they will do almost anything within their power to stall or completely avoid it altogether. Termination is not threatening until it is close enough in sight to be confirmed as reality. Humans are absolutely petrified of death, in any and all forms. Whether it be they fear the unknown,

In our most recent reading, The Stranger, Meursault seems virtually unphased by all life throws at him, until of course he is presented with the inevitable aspect of his early death. His character completely breaks under this weight, and pleads to continue on with his life.

"Then, I don’t know why, but something inside me snapped. I started yelling at the top of my lungs, and I insulted him and told him not to waste his prayers on me. I grabbed him by the collar of his cassock. I was pouring out on him everything that was in my heart […]. He seemed so certain about everything, didn’t he? And yet none of his certainties was worth one hair of a woman’s head. He wasn’t even sure he was alive, because he was living like a dead man […]. But I was sure about me, about everything, surer than he could ever be, sure of my life and sure of the death I had waiting for me. Yes, that was all I had. But at least I had as much of a hold on it as it had on me." This direct quote epitomizes his sudden realization of the eminent future that lay before him, and his once calm and collected perspective falters with the threat of its permanent termination. Humans believe themselves to be entirely invincible until death is too close to avoid or ignore. It is such a intangible concept that involves such intense emotional revelation that humans render themselves incapable of recognizing their undeniable ends. Prime example of this is graduation! For our entire high school careers, all that has been on any student's mind and ambitions is to graduate and leave the small town life we've all become accustomed to hating. Yet, as the immediate threat of leaving "forever" and moving on to a completely unknown way of life draws uncomfortably  near, apprehensions begin rising, emotions begin to swoon, and attachments become overly apparent. The fear of reality sets in, and the end to everything we have ever known remains all that is focused on. It is curious that something so highly anticipated can become to daringly frightful and unspeakable once it is close enough to be real. It is natural to fear the unknown, and completely understandable, yet one can choose to take each end as a new beginning. Each termination as a fresh start. Embrace the unknown, for it could turn into the next chapter of your life. In the stages of dying, one goes through denial, anger, bargaining, and depression before finally reaching acceptance. Graduation can be assimilated to death in this, that acceptance is final and brings peace and reassurance, and signifies a new adventure. Every new beginning comes from some other beginning's end.

"Such is the strangeness of the human heart."

Well I am a bit late on this one, due to hotel wifi and lack of computer complications, but I've decided to make a mountain out of something miniscule that made me ponder while reading "The Stranger." I'm not quite sure what topic or theme to generally present this as, so I suppose you'll just have to read the entire blog to get the feel, and then create your own conjecture as to what the main issue presented can be categorized as. Meursault can clearly be classified as weird. Unnatural. Appalling. Even a debauchary to our race. In saying these things, I do not mean to say that he was not an entirely enticing and compelling character, simply that he was not (nor anywhere near) the typical range of normalcy that is generally expected. As some do claim the title of sociopath, yes, he does flawlessly fit the label, yet does not strike me as his classification. He is indifferent. Yet pensive. Genius, yet at times so incredibly inept. He is meandering through life on a whim, his own that is, and is uncannily fulfilled by selfish physical impulse and raw instinct. He is virtually ignorant to any other thought process occurring around him, and is blissfully content at this. As Sam said in the socratic seminar, some parallels can be drawn between him and Roark. So, I beg to question, why is he like this? What otherworldly conditioning did he experience in his childhood that caused this "aberration" to exist? Assuming that he is not a sociopath. Yes, of course I do realize that he is a fictional character, but he inevitably presents an underlying truth concerning human nature. He is not the only character in literature with the jaded, indifferent persona, causing one to believe that the authors obtained this indepth personality from some interaction in their real life, whether it be themselves or someone they have met. What social atmosphere must one be raised in to achieve the results presented in Meursault? I'm sure there have been plenty of child abuse cases, rapes, neglect, and abandonment that have caused selfishness, indifference, and "heartlessness," yet I feel as though Meursault's was uncomparable. His was entirely genuine. Not out of spite or anger or vengeance or any other emotion purely other than what he felt at that moment in time. He did not question how he felt, or whether it was wrong or right, or even why it was wrong or right. Because he did not care. Not in the sense as most of the population know it, being not caring to prove a point to others or themselves, but he simply did not care because he didn't feel concern. There was no impulse to care flowing through his veins. I could go on for pages about how perplexed this train of thought led me to be, but it basically runs in circles, so I'll spare you the agony. I suppose that what I am asking is how, can a single human being, just as inable and dependent as every other, be placed within the exact same mold as the one next to him at birth, and end up so indescribably unknown and foreign?

This is going to be a long blog, and I apologize, but this point tied in with my thought process from above. And I needed a connection to modern day. So the different guy. Misunderstood, (or so assumed,) careless, and selfish. Aka dark, mysterious, and desirable. Why is this so attractive? Also, as Sam mentioned, the character of Meursault deeply intrigued me (as shown above) and basically made the book for me. Not that it wasn't well-written, simply that I found the most appeal in the character complex of Meursault himself. I would probably have a crush on him if he were real. So why does this complex attract me? Or any other female for this matter? Marie being the prime example: she was a normal woman, attractive, nice, and typical. What drew her to Meursault and what possessed her to stay and be so undeservingly good to him? Even today, girls, I myself included, are attracted to this unknown behavior. I believe it is partially due to the challenge of attaining or figuring out some small detail that renders success, or even breaking this person completely as defeat. These indifferent people are the most intriguing, I find, and it is almost irresistable to be attracted to the mysterious air they send off. Although Marie never got her personal victory in breaking  Meursault, I do believe that she accomplished this in retrospect. Because although Meursault only utilized her prescence for his physical wants and needs, he did not realize the comfort she had on his mind until he was without her in a prison cell facing imminent death. Of course, it was most likely not love, it was still more of a human attachment then he had ever experienced in his life. As is the typical teenage situation; where dark mysterious boy attracts girl, they remain together but distant, then he breaks his indifference only too late.

"The eyes of others our prisons; their thoughts our cages."

            Although Virginia's Woolf's "A Room of One's Own" was predominantly written to address the oppression of women and the light in which women are regarded, I personally took much more out of it than simply an equality lesson. In her proceedings, she mentions the utter importance of outward appearance not only as far as women are concerned, but also geniuses. She stated that all any human does is observe how others see themselves and use sed feedback to alter or maintain their personality. And so provides the concept of the "looking glass" that Woolf proposed, that directly connects to an actual notion in psychology known as the "looking glass self." This particular social idea states that a person's self grows out of society's interpersonal interactions and the perceptions of others. Woolf goes on to emphasize the skewed view of which men see themselves in their looking glasses, and how everyone is subject to such mental processes, whether they be conscious or unconscious.

           However, the topic of this passage is not to discuss men vs women, but the limiting factor that plague every soul on the planet, regardless of race, gender, history, or intelligence. In fact, in her essay, Woolf presses that geniuses, of all society, are the most concerned with their looking glasses and the impressions of their surrounding company. For if they do not agree with whatever mind-shattering new realization the so-called "genius"  discovers, then what would be qualifying him/her as a genius? Precedent. That is all that lies before public and mass opinion, is the precedent set of what is "right and good" before us, for man would be lost without his mold to conform to. In an instance, women were heavily oppressed and banned from the midst of literature for centuries, yet when they finally received their much sought-after poetic freedom, women still preferred to publish under the "veil of anonymity." They only concerned the thoughts of others, and how their work would be perceived, and in turn, themselves. She also brings to light that when these women write, they do not ask themselves "What do I think?" but "What will the reception be of what I think? And what will others think of my thoughts?"

            Issues such as these that are so deeply ridden within our society, tradition, and history are guaranteed to withstand the test of time, and of course are still well and thriving even today. Obviously, as the current psychological terming of "looking glass self" has been coined and heavily utilized, humanity still relies immensely on the thoughts, perceptions, and opinions of their surrounding environment. Authors must find a publisher who thinks their work is good; it must have potential to its intended customers, and most importantly, must sell. Dominantly in teenage years, this need for approval and restriction in expression is a core aspect of life even more so than any other essential point in a lifetime. And as for those who say "I do not care what others think of me," what possesses you to say that? Why must you announce that you do not care while everyone else does? Is it to set yourself apart, or to appear strong? Or do you simply believe that you do not care, which is almost the worst option; being unaware of the subconscious thought process occurring within yourself. Either way, it is an inevitable fate that Woolf had addressed years and years ago, and it still remains true today.

            Recognizing such regrettably truthful misfortunes and pondering the extent to which they have permeated our lives is all that can be done of such large scale embedded issues. This system is an ongoing one that traces back to the establishment of our very structural existence; it runs in the base beams that form society and date back to its early beginning. My only hope is that one day, we can manage to pull out the threads that contain this undeniable concern with others and be perfectly free within our limitless minds to explore the vast cavities we weren't even aware existed.

“The first woman was created from the rib of a man. She was not made from his head to top him, nor from his feet to be trampled on by him, but out of his side to be equal to him.”

Well, as clearly discussed, this current unit has been particularly illuminating the issue of equality among males and females. I am aware that this concept of feminism is generally seen as an unnecessarily defensive subject, and that its advocates are passionate to say the least. Although I am immensely proud to be a female in today’s world, I do not consider myself any form of die-hard feminist. When reading A Thousand Splendid Suns, however, I found myself dumbfounded at the inequality that human beings endured simply because of gender. As I read, I thought it not a matter of women’s rights or men’s rights, but the rights of humanity as a whole and the blatant unfair treatment of women. In particular, the notion that really got under my skin was the promiscuity that was allowed, and even promoted for men, while women were banned from showing an inch of skin to anyone other than their husband(s). Also, it pains me to have to add that “s” on the end of husband, yet again highlighting another repulsive unfairness in culture. Mariam and Laila were owned by their husband, that they had to share. They depended on him for food and shelter and sustenance. He, who brutalized and forbid them from the world’s eyes, and expected them at his beckon call, had the cultural obligation to treat them as instruments of service. Why were men chosen to have these privileges? What differs from the amount of dominance they possess compared to women? Why, in almost every culture, is the male figure allowed more leeway in profession, athletics, promiscuity, leadership, and strength? What quality unifies all men that sanctions them for these automatic generalizations? I can fortunately state that the law has generally maintained equality of mankind as of recent generations, yet we all still manage to uphold these typical male dominant perspectives.

                As reluctant I am to admit this, these issues have endured the test of time to manifest themselves in today’s modern society. Especially in high school, this specific example is in abundance, and is distastefully common. The more girls a boy dates or hooks up with, the more notoriety and praise he receives. In retrospect, a girl can be considered a whore if she dates even a slightly elevated number of guys, or is simply over flirtatious. This double standard predominantly aggravates me, and I hope that one day it will not be an issue of male or female, but of equality and humanity.  

Today in School

Well, we were supposed to have a major snow storm last night. Didn't exactly happen. We had a two hour delay, so now I am sitting here in the library with Shmo craving Chinese and chocolate. She just said I sounded pregnant. Ewa. Shannon got into an argument with some stupid little girl about being kicked in the face in gym class. Ehhe. This is just what I'm doing as an alternative to nothing, becuase this class is fairly pointless. Michael Vining crashed his second car today. Tragic. I'm excited to go get Chinese after school. Shannon has some intense boy drama. Wish that I had something better to do. Zoe ate a sea urchin the other day. Wha the hull. Now we're having gross discussion about pig's feet and saki hana. Hm. Everyday life is so boring to write about. I started my novel last night. I wrote the first paragraph at least five times over. Still don't like it. This is going to be quite a task. I need to start brainstorming names for everyone. Hope people buy it.  My goal is at least for 100.