Moved back to Minnesota.
I could not entirely answer your question if you asked me why I remained in West Egg in the first place. I came there knowing absolutely no one and I think that is what had attracted me to West Egg in the first place. I am a man of judgement kept to myself and I like spending time alone as well. I was fine with living in a small little house, with a brand new job with bonds. It was not until my fascination with Gatsby and everything that has to do with his life that I really began to have a purpose. Of course it was a pleasure to get to spend time with Daisy, but we were never really that close her and Tom and I are not the same type of people. I had so much admiration for Gatsby and I loved to unveil every little detail about him that I could. I had not minded trying to assist Gatsby to reunite with Daisy. Honestly, there is not much that I would not do for Gatsby. I do not believe that he has many friends that are related to business. It is comforting to believe that Gatsby had thought of me as his friend. I had gotten myself so involved with his life, which would not seem terrible as a matter of fact. However, it was the people within his life that became the source of destruction. Things were never going to settle well between Tom and Gatsby and I will forever loathe Tom for his cowardliness and jealousy. I was mesmerized by Gatsby and I was not really paying any attention to my mental state with all of the corruption that followed. I failed to realize my own mind going insane and even if I had I probably would have ignored it. Anyways, it was not until Gatsby had been wrongfully shot that I came to the realization that I was not alright. The one man who I could have absolutely no judgement for and utter reverence was killed for a crime that was not even his. This is what had forced my reality to hit me in the face. I had wanted the funeral to go exactly how Gatsby would have wanted it. It was not even until then that I realized I am the only person Gatsby had left. It is sad to think that he is no long living and dreaming about Daisy. However, without Gatsby, my life is West Egg no longer has any meaning.
Monday, April 27, 2015
Why I...
Forgot my own birthday.
What I had wanted to avoid most was the confrontation between Tom and Gatsby's relationships with Daisy. It seems as though it was inevitable for Tom to have to get involved with everything. As soon as Daisy had pleased to go to New York with Gatsby, it was almost an invitation for Tom to interfere and invite the rest of us along with them to keep an eye on their behavior. Once tension begins to arise, accusations and insults began with Tom and ended with Gatsby. Tom accuses Gatsby that his pursuit for Daisy is just a Gatsby's way of exaggerating a fling he has with Daisy. Tom admits that he has researched into Gatsby's business with Wolfsheim and accused them of bootlegging. Even more surprising was that Gatsby had finally came out with something that had been kept a secret for so long. Gatsby had said to Tom that Daisy does not love him and never did love him. Then, obviously, Tom had protested that he Gatsby is telling a lie and even asked Daisy for the truth. She does not fully deny anything, she proclaims that she has loves them both and truthfully I never wanted this confrontation to ever happen.
Just then, Tom believes that he has the upper hand to Gatsby and suggests that him and Daisy drive home together. These reasons today gave me so much occupation and stress in my mind that I had forgotten my own birthday. Today is my thirtieth birthday and these events have led me into someone that I, myself, do not even recognize anymore.
What I had wanted to avoid most was the confrontation between Tom and Gatsby's relationships with Daisy. It seems as though it was inevitable for Tom to have to get involved with everything. As soon as Daisy had pleased to go to New York with Gatsby, it was almost an invitation for Tom to interfere and invite the rest of us along with them to keep an eye on their behavior. Once tension begins to arise, accusations and insults began with Tom and ended with Gatsby. Tom accuses Gatsby that his pursuit for Daisy is just a Gatsby's way of exaggerating a fling he has with Daisy. Tom admits that he has researched into Gatsby's business with Wolfsheim and accused them of bootlegging. Even more surprising was that Gatsby had finally came out with something that had been kept a secret for so long. Gatsby had said to Tom that Daisy does not love him and never did love him. Then, obviously, Tom had protested that he Gatsby is telling a lie and even asked Daisy for the truth. She does not fully deny anything, she proclaims that she has loves them both and truthfully I never wanted this confrontation to ever happen.
Just then, Tom believes that he has the upper hand to Gatsby and suggests that him and Daisy drive home together. These reasons today gave me so much occupation and stress in my mind that I had forgotten my own birthday. Today is my thirtieth birthday and these events have led me into someone that I, myself, do not even recognize anymore.
What I was thinking...
I have lost all respect once I found the true side of Tom Buchanan and his hypocrisy. I do not like the way he is treating Daisy, or any woman at that. He is way too obsessive with Daisy's relationship with Gatsby and he is trying his best to make Gatsby look like a fool any chance he can get, and for the majority of the time he fails. It was almost insulting to me when Tom accused Gatsby of earning all of his money from bootlegging. To me, Gatsby is a way more respectable man and I revere him for all of his success.
I waited until late when everyone at the party finally left. Gatsby has requested for me to wait until he was free. For once, "the tanned skin was drawn unusually tight on his face, and his eyes were bright and tired" (109). I have never seen this distraught side of Gatsby and it hit me pretty hard seeing him like this. I could see it in his voice his sadness that Daisy did not have a good time at his party. I, myself, have to agree that I did not have as much fun this time as the first time I went, but there are valid reasons.
Gatsby loves to talk about Daisy and the plans he has for her. I love hearing about them too because it interests me to hear about his love for my cousin, even though I know I barely know her. Even though Gatsby's wishes for Daisy would be understandable for anyone, I told him that "I wouldn't ask too much of her" and that he "can't repeat the past" (110). I was surprised at myself for managing to give Jay Gatsby advice, but it was in the best interest for them both, sort of like an outsider from the fantasy world that Gatsby imagines.
I waited until late when everyone at the party finally left. Gatsby has requested for me to wait until he was free. For once, "the tanned skin was drawn unusually tight on his face, and his eyes were bright and tired" (109). I have never seen this distraught side of Gatsby and it hit me pretty hard seeing him like this. I could see it in his voice his sadness that Daisy did not have a good time at his party. I, myself, have to agree that I did not have as much fun this time as the first time I went, but there are valid reasons.
Gatsby loves to talk about Daisy and the plans he has for her. I love hearing about them too because it interests me to hear about his love for my cousin, even though I know I barely know her. Even though Gatsby's wishes for Daisy would be understandable for anyone, I told him that "I wouldn't ask too much of her" and that he "can't repeat the past" (110). I was surprised at myself for managing to give Jay Gatsby advice, but it was in the best interest for them both, sort of like an outsider from the fantasy world that Gatsby imagines.
What I was feeling...
Just when I thought things could not have gotten any more uncomfortable for me after meeting Myrtle, things had only gotten worse. Not only did I not fancy meeting Myrtle in the first place, I surely did not want to spend time with her and Tom together at a party with even more people I am unfamiliar with. The personalities of these people are extremely contrasting to mine. These people are loud and love to talk. I noticed that "the bottle of whiskey-a second one-was now in constant demand by all present"(35), and "I wanted to get out and walk eastward toward the Park through the soft twilight, but each time I tried to go I became entangled in some wild, strident argument which pulled me back, as if with ropes, into my chair" (35). I also did not like hearing about the lies on top of the other lies that Tom has been telling almost everyone else, but Daisy. Tom is too much of a coward to leave Daisy and he is not a man of his word. However, I learn that Tom has been telling, more like lying, to Myrtle about why he cannot be with her. He is telling her that Daisy does not "believe" in divorce because she is catholic so of course Myrtle believes every word he says. It is distasteful to me that someone could live such a lie and be so unfaithful to his wife! Anyways, I have wanted to leave and be alone ever since I found out I was going to meet Myrtle and especially once I was forced to hang out with her friends whom seem to be complete idiots to me. Then a brawl begins to break out between Tom and Myrtle regarding Daisy. Myrtle seems to believe that she has every right to mention Daisy as much as she wants and Tom thinks to believe otherwise. Just then, I hear Myrtle beginning to repeat Daisy's name over and over just as it pushes Tom's last button. Tom throws a massive punch to Myrtle's face, breaking her nose and leaving blood all over the place. I knew that this was not going to end up well, but I had never thought that Tom was going to stoop this low.
Friday, April 24, 2015
What I was thinking...
When Tom Buchanan had asked me to acquaintance him to the railroad, I had not thought much of it. I figured that I should go so that I will have some friends here who know what they are doing and I truly wish to become closer to Daisy. I thought, why not? I would not hurt since I am new here and have nothing else to do. I figured he would know the area best and I can get to know him and Daisy more.
However, this was no walk in the part...unfortunately. Tom had taken me to meet his mistress. I had heard from a few of his friends about their resentment towards "the fact that he turned up in popular restaurants with her and, leaving her at a table, sauntered about, chatting with whomsoever he knew" (24). I had not very much desire to meet her, probably because Daisy is my family and therefor I acclaim bias towards her feelings. However, I became very curious to know who the girl is that Tom is so foolish for. So, Tom and I drove up to New York on the train during the afternoon and we had stopped by the ashheaps. This is where we got off to meet his girl.
The only building I see ahead is "a small block of yellow brick sitting on the edge of the waste land, a sort of compact Main Street ministering to it, and contiguous to absolutely nothing" (25). Along with two other shops, one was a garage in which that is where Tom lead me. I hear footsteps coming down the stairs to where we are standing. I see a woman of a thickish figure, looking like she was in her middle thirties. She was "faintly stout, but she carried her surplus flesh sensuously as some women can" (25). This is not much of the woman that I had pictured, but now that I see her, I can visualize already what kind of man Tom Buchanan really was, and that is: perverted.
However, this was no walk in the part...unfortunately. Tom had taken me to meet his mistress. I had heard from a few of his friends about their resentment towards "the fact that he turned up in popular restaurants with her and, leaving her at a table, sauntered about, chatting with whomsoever he knew" (24). I had not very much desire to meet her, probably because Daisy is my family and therefor I acclaim bias towards her feelings. However, I became very curious to know who the girl is that Tom is so foolish for. So, Tom and I drove up to New York on the train during the afternoon and we had stopped by the ashheaps. This is where we got off to meet his girl.
The only building I see ahead is "a small block of yellow brick sitting on the edge of the waste land, a sort of compact Main Street ministering to it, and contiguous to absolutely nothing" (25). Along with two other shops, one was a garage in which that is where Tom lead me. I hear footsteps coming down the stairs to where we are standing. I see a woman of a thickish figure, looking like she was in her middle thirties. She was "faintly stout, but she carried her surplus flesh sensuously as some women can" (25). This is not much of the woman that I had pictured, but now that I see her, I can visualize already what kind of man Tom Buchanan really was, and that is: perverted.
What I was feeling...
I had been at Gatsby's extravagant party for a couple hours now. I am starting to feel the alcohol rushing to my head as this is only the second time I have ever gotten drunk. For a while I had no place to go or to stand, so I had to stand alone in the garden where the drinks were so that I would have an occupation.
Thankfully I at least knew one person at the party, Jordan Baker. I remember sitting at a table with a "rowdy little girl"(47) and a man by which I believed he was around my age. I am not positive whether or not it was the alcohol in my system or not, but I knew I was actually having a great time next door. After the "two finger-bowls of champagne"(47), the man sitting with me had started a conversation. He mentioned that I had looked familiar to him and asked if I was in the Third Division during the war. Given my intoxication, my mind was very puzzled at his observation because it is true that I was in the Third Division, but more specifically the ninth machine-gun battalion. How on earth does the man know that if I have never seen him before?
With the man's response, it came clear to me about how he had seen me before and that was because he was in the war too. My thinking process is delayed and you and I both know why, obviously. Anyways, we carried on a normal, casual conversation about the war. I had learned that this man owns a hydroplane and he invited me to go on it with him in the morning! The man also called my "old sport" by which I really loved it when he said it. I am really growing on to this man and I do not even know his first name!
Just as I was about to ask what I should have asked him in the first place, what his name was, Jordan came by and interrupted just as "it was on the tip of my tongue" (47). And because I had not known, I feel so rude for talking to the man about how this was "an unusual party for me" (47) and that "I haven't seen the host" (47). I was not complaining, I am just simply accustomed to getting to know the host before I am inside their house drinking their booze, especially my neighbor's.
Then, the puzzled confusion the man showed on his face cause puzzlement on my part as if I had made no sense with my words. Just then, the unimaginable happened and the man said, "I'm Gatsby"(48)! Obviously the first word out of my mouth was, "What!"(48), followed by "Oh, I beg your pardon" (48). Of course, this man thinks I must be so incompetent for not knowing who he was! He is my neighbor for Christ's sake. I just had a full conversation with a man while drinking his champagne and sitting in his chairs. I visually slap myself in the face for not putting the puzzle pieces together. What a terrible first impression I just gave to a man who could step on my house. Man I wish I could go back and reintroduce myself since I am going to be seeing a lot more of this man and I hate feeling rude and impolite.
Thankfully I at least knew one person at the party, Jordan Baker. I remember sitting at a table with a "rowdy little girl"(47) and a man by which I believed he was around my age. I am not positive whether or not it was the alcohol in my system or not, but I knew I was actually having a great time next door. After the "two finger-bowls of champagne"(47), the man sitting with me had started a conversation. He mentioned that I had looked familiar to him and asked if I was in the Third Division during the war. Given my intoxication, my mind was very puzzled at his observation because it is true that I was in the Third Division, but more specifically the ninth machine-gun battalion. How on earth does the man know that if I have never seen him before?
With the man's response, it came clear to me about how he had seen me before and that was because he was in the war too. My thinking process is delayed and you and I both know why, obviously. Anyways, we carried on a normal, casual conversation about the war. I had learned that this man owns a hydroplane and he invited me to go on it with him in the morning! The man also called my "old sport" by which I really loved it when he said it. I am really growing on to this man and I do not even know his first name!
Just as I was about to ask what I should have asked him in the first place, what his name was, Jordan came by and interrupted just as "it was on the tip of my tongue" (47). And because I had not known, I feel so rude for talking to the man about how this was "an unusual party for me" (47) and that "I haven't seen the host" (47). I was not complaining, I am just simply accustomed to getting to know the host before I am inside their house drinking their booze, especially my neighbor's.
Then, the puzzled confusion the man showed on his face cause puzzlement on my part as if I had made no sense with my words. Just then, the unimaginable happened and the man said, "I'm Gatsby"(48)! Obviously the first word out of my mouth was, "What!"(48), followed by "Oh, I beg your pardon" (48). Of course, this man thinks I must be so incompetent for not knowing who he was! He is my neighbor for Christ's sake. I just had a full conversation with a man while drinking his champagne and sitting in his chairs. I visually slap myself in the face for not putting the puzzle pieces together. What a terrible first impression I just gave to a man who could step on my house. Man I wish I could go back and reintroduce myself since I am going to be seeing a lot more of this man and I hate feeling rude and impolite.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)