Beauty through Tragedy

           A sense of beauty can be portrayed even through the horrors of gruesome war. In the novel All Quiet on the Western Front, the author evokes this sort of beauty through detailed diction that takes the mindset off of war to forget about the tragedy it brings. The main character begins to describe the land as "the grasses sway their tall spears; The white butterflies flutter around and float on the soft warm wind of the late summer" (9). One would never expect the terrain of a battlefield to appear this way. Although this is probably not what the land had looked like, the soldiers could imagine it to be true; if you begin to tell yourself something is true and believe deeply in it, it can become real. Here the boys were so traumatized by the war that they needed a surreal getaway where everything could be let go and forgotten. What better way to do so than by experiencing the beauty of nature. Nature is sacred and organic; it cleanses the body and soul. There is a sense of innocence with nature; a sense of youth and fantasy. This is all anyone begs for during a time of hardship, especially something as daunting as war.

Anywhere But Here

Authors Note: The end of Jekyll and Hyde was about Jekyll's last words in writing before being taken away by Hyde and his evil. Hyde was just a mask that Jekyll held up to hide any insecurities that he had because he grew up with such high expectations of himself and felt that he couldnt reach them. Knowing this, I wrote about how insecurities can be taken to yet another extreme.

My insecurities overide any possible chance of me escaping this chamber. I have dug myself a hole too deep to get out of and now I am left with nothing but the feeling of guilt and regret. Help me, God. I ask You for forgiveness. I write my final words saying...

Take me anywhere; anywhere but here.
Please.
I have realized that this is not me.
In fact, it has never been me.
I was hiding behind a mask with no identity
And felt I could get away with anything.
No one would have known besides me.

But the truth was that it was killing me.
Viciously stabbing my heart every second I lived in denial.
What pain and hurt it brought me
That I know.
But for some reason the mask still clung to my face.
Affraid to change back
Because, truthfully, I forgot who I was.
I had no idea.
The mask became apart of me and I was losing myself through it all.

Now here you find me.
Clinging to every last ounce of life.
I took something too far
And it has come back to get me.
More powerful and strong.

I cry and weep.
each tear streams down my face of sorrow.
each tear resembles every regret that I am letting go
In order to save myself
From the insecurities.
From the mask.

Go away.
Shed from my face and soul.
You do not belong.
You never have.
I wish away your existance
Because you have done nothing but harm.
Every day has been a marothon
Living with insecurities.
You haunt my dreams and scar reality
I am enslaved by my own fears.
So go away.
Shed from my face and soul.
You do not belong.

Take me anywhere; anywhere but hear.
I have long lived a life of evil
And now wish for a life of no pain.
Oh heavenly Father, I will see you soon.
Goodbye all that is sane and all that is evil
Tell my mother and father I love them dearly.
Forever they rest in my heart.
Forever may the old me rest in theirs.

I Wonder Why...

Authors Note: The end of the novel of Jekyll and Hyde portrays the idea of being enslaved by our curiosity and want for answers and how powerful it is. We always want to know more than what may lay in front of us; we need to know the deeper meaning and moral, but why? Why do we question everything? I wonder why....

Why are my eyes drawn to an accident?
Why do we I trouble believing?
Why do I ask questions?
Why do I thrive for more than what is already known?

It is a habit.
It is a necessity.
It is a want.
I want to know more.
I want to know the missing pieces.

My sanity has dispersed and forever lives another me.
Living by the curiosity of the unknown.
I have enslaved and confined myself.
Yet I live off of the mysterious question.
It reels me in and doesnt let loose.

For my heart shall be put in my ears.
Silent.
Listening.
Absorbing.
Remembering the importance of life.
But rather I deny the right
And fight for the wrong

Why do I care so deepily?
Nothing really matters in the end.

Its an addiction that I can't get off of.
Transforming me into the face of evil.
The face of another me.

I trapped inside my own curiosity.
It is killing me.
I need to stop.
But how?
The answer only lives within me.
But I do not have to key to unlock it.

Forever I curiously wait.
Forever I wonder why...

Enslaved by Curiousity. Enslaved by Fears.

Author's Note: "It is one thing to mortify curiosity, another to conquer it; and it may be doubted if, from that day forth, Utterson desired the society of his surviving friend with the same eagerness. He thought of him kindly; but his thoughts were disquieted and fearful." (59) Chapter 7 explains the idea that we’re all enslaved by evil because of the curiosity and fear it brings and evolves. Using a short descriptive scene and analysis, similar to an actual scene in the novel of Jekyll and Hyde, I wrote about how powerful evil can become through symbolism of the door, the window, the air, the nature, the light, etc.
 

             Through the window I can see clear as day, but I dare not be on the other side; the sun’s natural light beams through and the clouds float swiftly through the cool, afternoon air. Up and down the street it is quiet, deceivingly quite and the gusts of fresh air brush against my skin as it creeps through the smallest crack. The sensation is killing me and I become mesmerized by nature’s superiority, but I cannot begin to admit it. Quickly I seal the window shut and cover it with a black cloth, allowing none but a sliver of light to peer in. Suddenly the room glazed over with a layer of fog from the fire smoke and candle burnings. I feel safe and comfortable trapped and enclosed in this room that I have spent amongst my years of memories in. I shall not expose myself to the ways of good, yet rather imprison myself in this room with a keyless door. This door I have kept shut all this time, afraid to open and escape evil; I wouldn't be caught dead escaping this cabinet. And if I could escape, who knows what would become of me. I fear the curiosity of what lies behind the door, and therefore I do not attempt to open it. There is no key. There is no lock. There is no handle, just a solid door with one possible way out, yet I have not found it. Slowly I am drifting away every moment evil lives within me, but I do not have the answer of how to escape it. I am out of spirits and am growing silent. Evil has finally taken my soul, and there is nothing more I can do but wait patiently as evil kills me.  

           We are all imprisoned by what is evil and fear the curiosity of what evil is capable of. The feeling of hopelessness and desperation secretly hides within our souls, waiting to be seeked and admitted, waiting to kill all good. We want change without denial, yet we hold up a strong barrier that cannot be broken down without the force of evil. We hold up our guards and defend ourselves because we fear the curiosity of what evil can condemn.

Day by Night

Authors Note: This response to the novel Jekyll and Hyde is about the evil that is waiting to burst into flames and lash out in the darkness, stealing all humanity; the idea that we change by night where the lurking reality and truth arises, yet when night turns to day we want to forget all that is real and true.

Day by night
It is the difference between
darkness and light
evil and good

Darkness waits silently
eery
suspicios
flowing with lies
yet prowling
clawing away at truths

Light shines radiantly
glistening
bright
Filling the hushed air
yet overwhelmed
caught in the moment

***

Evil lurkes mysteriously
intruiged
curious
roaring with flames
yet hiding
waiting to be seeked

Good rests comfortably
content
safe
grinning with happiness
yet shy
fading away in time

***

Day by night
It is the difference between
truths and lies
actions and thoughts

Day by night lives within us all
Yet we are still the same
Living life as we know it
Yet evil still hides
waiting to be admitted
waiting to be seeked


Quote Inspiration, "he must have secrets of his own; black secrets by the look of him; secrets compared to which poor Jekyll's worst would be like sunshine. Things cannot continue as they are. It turns me cold to think of this creature stealing like a thief" (54). 

A Deadly Dream of Peace

There is something intriguing about the curiosity of what lies underneath your toes in the hushed movements of the ocean. The rhythmic sounds of the waves upon any object as the sea begins to calm, cleanses my frail body. The waves begin to linger one by one as they meet the edge of my surfboard. It is so strange how calm the ocean can appear, yet how vigorous and powerful its motions can be. So cold is the night air, so dark is the night sky, and so bright is the night moon that reflects onto the glistening, blue water. My surfboard and I sit on the top of the deep unknown below.  As I sit there the constant swaying becomes so hypnotizing that the rippling of the water begins to echo a faint voice telling me to be a part of the ocean’s mysterious unknown. As the familiar voice fades into the beckoning night air, my body becomes numb to the point where I can only think without the control of my actions; they have a mind of their own.  The ocean’s call to happiness and freedom pulls me in deeper, and now I rest full bodied in water with a light grip on the edge of my surfboard. I float in a world with no boundaries or expectations that push me to the impossible, absorbing the serene sensation of absence, reminiscing nothing but the thoughts of now. Seconds before the next wave is about to come and sweep away the last importance of my being…

***

…the trickling of the rain drips down my window, waking me slowly from my dream as I question its reality. I need to go back to sleep. I need to fall asleep one final time to find my place in the world. I despised, and feared when I was awake, and should  have relieved myself from the monster had I confessed—it was now, I say, the reflection of a dreadful—of a hopeless mystery—from the waters. It was holding me back, but no longer will I let it do so. My eyes slowly begin to close where a faint slit of blurriness still peers through and…

***

… I take my final breath, a final breath of life and remorse.  Looking up into the heavenly moon with its bright light that it sheds, I slowly rest my eyes back in my head and let go; let go of all uncertainty. I can hear the beat of my heart through whooshing sounds of water as it forces me deeper into is nature. My heart begins to race frantically as I go into a state of panic and shock, pulsing in my head, overwhelming all possible thoughts. A tremendous pressure in my ears builds up, throbbing with excruciating pain. I scream out in my final feelings of torture as my chest tenses up. Then, gradually the distraught pounding turns to a hushed murmur dissipating as the seconds tick by. A bit longer it lasted, whispering beneath the stars which flew and sang and shined radiantly through the midnight sky. At peace was the ocean, and at peace was she.

***

Rebecca Hanley had died; her body, with an empty heart, flowing peacefully from wave to wave atop the curiosity of the ocean.

October 14, 1996-January 29, 2012

“Forever remembered”