The mind is a strange thing that can twist and stretch to no end and accommodate almost anything, no matter how logically unsound, when caught in the push and pull of human rationalizations.
Who would have thought only a few short months ago that this room, which he could not escape, would become the only place in existence where he could find some peace?
We all imagine we have all our ducks in a row, imagine we know what we could live with and what we could not, and think we’re in control. It only takes one minor adjustment, the slightest thing, a ridiculous detail, to wake us up to the fact that we’re barely one rung above an eating and breeding machine, programmed to stay alive at any cost.
Some people find a savage nobility in accepting this thought, in embracing their instinctual nature, they consider it a mark of courage in the struggle for survival they perceive life to be.
It clarifies their purpose, removes their internal conflicts and sets them free from the agony of moral choices and from the obligation to uphold one’s own standards of behavior in the face of insurmountable odds.
Tragically for him, he was not one of those people.