In the world, in people, in myself. It feels so awful waking up and hating yourself; especially when it turns into a daily thing. I just couldn’t stop thinking how much I messed up. My body was a target of my horrible thoughts. I began taking less care of it, I would constantly criticize it, but it did nothing to me.
Rarely is a human left to his own devices to raise himself from childhood. It would certainly be an unpleasant experience, having no protector, no one to care for you, no one to help you discover the emotions humans are capable of feeling. Sympathy is well deserved to any creatures that are thrust into the world with no guidance, left to learn the cruelness of the world on their own. Victor abandons his creation, which is comparable to a mother abandoning her child. “Yet you, my creator, detest and spurn me, they creature, to whom thou art bound by ties only dissoluble by the annihilation of one of us.” (Shelley 89) The monster is saying ... ... middle of paper ... ... is ultimately foiled by humanities prejudices.
Nevertheless, the blindness of people blinds the mistakes and pain of other people, even to love. Furthermore, what seems terrifying may turn out to be just the pain of someone’s heart, just like the pain of the creature that was thought to be a monster and not being one from the begging became one at the
This book, The Great Gatsby, is a tale of deceit and the silent despair in the world of the human. Everything is not what it is made out to look like and often convincing as such. It is created by and creates the fear of being left in that portal which is the object of escape and the depths of despair. It shows life is a whirlwind which cannot be controlled, and many times even for the sick is not wished to be controlled because humans are too worrisome over what will and will not be and would rather turn their backs than face what is real. Distressing to look at and face but bliss to ignore and get on with the life which you know nothing about and never will know about because you are too stupid not to have the thought to want to know about.
Depression has several stages to it. It begins with negative self-talk. This is like having someone looking over your shoulder telling you every little thing you think and do is wrong. This is every thought, especially the one that no one else has any idea you're thinking. This becomes a torment that you are a failure and everything about you are simply a waste of human knowledge.
As Meursault states, "for the first time in years, I had this stupid urge to cry, because I could feel how much all these people hated me" (Camus 90). Through much of the degradation of language through silence and the distinctive word structuring, The Stranger and “The Myth of Sisyphus” deeply portrays just how illogical the world could be, how futile human life is, and how there is no superior being in life beyond a human being. Camus believes that everyone’s absurd condition exists in that nobody is concerned or is willing to help one another.
For me, you are just stressful and a complete waste of time. Do you know what you ever cause for some people? According to webMD.com, stress is bad for the physical and emotional state of your body because “it makes you easily agitated, frustrated, and moody. It can also cause you to feel overwhelmed, like you are losing control or need to take control. One of the worst things that may happen is you have low self-esteem, you feel lonely, worthless, and depressed.
Woman, woman, thou art accountable for this! I cannot forgive the!” (193). The guilt of Dimmesdale not being accountable for his sin transformed him into a weak, ill-minded person and that is shown through the transformation of him physically and mentally throughout the
The main lesson he learned was how mean man could be. Man abused the creature because he was a monster to them. Later on, the creature began to hate himself and his creator for the way he was made. “Of my creation and creator I was absolutely ignorant, but I knew that I possessed no money, no friends, no kind of property. I was, besides, endued with a figure hideously deformed and loathsome; I was not even of the same nature as man.