My rewritten Books. The Unbearable Lightness of Being Earnest.
We tend trying to escape our own obligations towards ourselves, by wearing masks and bestowing blame upon all others, and making up excuses after excuses for not being ourselves. There is no escape, though, in the end. In the end, we will be visited by Azrael, and what is supposed to happen, will happen, despite our unfaithfulness towards Faite itself, as she bears her double real name.
It is said that only if you live in the shadow of the angel of death you may pass over the valley of death and not be called upon your own death. To live in the shadow of the angel of death is not to be alive, not to be dead. As you escape death, you escape yourself, you escape life and all it entails. One must come to terms with oneself, and one’s own death, in order to truly live, while one’s living. Peeling yourself of all masks, a human onion as it were, would you reveal your true self? Or yet another persona, devoid of trickstery, to be sure, but yet a white paper mask that begs to be colored? Is there death to those who are truly themselves? Or only a truer, more complete death?
It is said that only if you live in the shadow of the angel of death you may pass over the valley of death and not be called upon your own death. To live in the shadow of the angel of death is not to be alive, not to be dead. As you escape death, you escape yourself, you escape life and all it entails. One must come to terms with oneself, and one’s own death, in order to truly live, while one’s living. Peeling yourself of all masks, a human onion as it were, would you reveal your true self? Or yet another persona, devoid of trickstery, to be sure, but yet a white paper mask that begs to be colored? Is there death to those who are truly themselves? Or only a truer, more complete death?
Labels: MRB
