“you’re wrong. when she first died, do you think i didn’t grieve like anyone else? but i looked back to her beginning and the time before she was born. not only the time before she was born, but the time before she had a body. not only the time before she had a body, but the time before she had a spirit. in the midst of the jumble of wonder and mystery a change took place and she had a spirit. another change and she had a body. another change and she was born. now there’s been another change and she’s dead. it’s just like the progression of the four seasons, spring, summer, fall, winter. now she’s going to lie down peacefully in a vast room. if i were to follow after her bawling and sobbing, it would show that i don’t understand anything about fate. so i stopped.”
i once had a lengthy conversation with a friend of mine (his name’s Sammy) about Virginia Woolf’s Mrs. Dalloway.
and that is literally the first line of the book. “Mrs. Dalloway said she would buy the flowers herself.”
and i go into all of these hypotheses about how Mrs. Dalloway is as a character. she is obviously wealthy as she is buying flowers. no poor person will buy flowers just because of the sake of flowers themselves. they will buy bread, that’s for sure. but why is she buying the flowers herself? someone should be buying them for her… because that’s just proper.
a lot of things can be contemplated from this opening sentence alone. and i don’t know… the sound of that sentence in my ears when i say it out loud….
Mrs. Dalloway said she would buy the flowers herself….
i have to find a job and earn money, just for the sake of buying this book.
such an inspiration.
i went with Joelle (she’s my roommate and she’s awesome. i’m going to tell you about her some other time in another post. it’s going to be too long of a post if i incorporate it with another) yesterday to meet up with my mom and dad at City Hall. they were just back from New York, but heading towards Boston, and they have this one (heavy, mind you) suitcase that they want to leave in Montreal before the head back to the States. so Joelle and I, we took the subway and went to City Hall.
and on the subway, i saw a couple, just sitting at the corner, doing nothing but hold hands. well, they’re talking, and at times they snuggle together, but it was nothing. they couldn’t see me looking at them because i was looking after my suitcase, standing, holding onto those poles you have in subways, and they were sitting in front of me. and then i saw the girl kiss the guy on his cheeks and i felt all warm and fuzzy inside. i know i am still eighteen, and in no way am i rushing myself to be in a relationship, but i just can’t help but feel a little jealous that i’m not feeling what they are feeling at that moment. i am often (shamefully) staring at people when they hold hands like that, or hug each other, or kiss each other. because i know that they must love each other, and that makes me happy.
people should do this more often. i mean, i have no comment whatsoever on PDAs, but as long as they are not heavy make out sesh that are disturbing, a little love can do no harm. i love life as it is, but looking at how people can love each other, how small things can make a person so happy, it makes me love the world even more.
and i’m making no sense, so i’m just going to charge my laptop which is slowly dying, and do my yoga. i’ll see you when i see you.