awakeI'm confounded. Are we living our lives?
Are we living our lives in zest? or are we simply avoiding life for what it is, and with the conjured illusion of ignorance luxuriate in troubled peace? Why are we unable to face life for what it brings, and why are we irrational?
Now I'm tempted to read Mrs Dalloway.
Pauline too.
And Virginia Woolf keeps talking in metaphors it's really hard to catch what she really means. I don't know why she killed herself even though her husband promised to move back to London. Do you?
Re:
On the other hand, he died so that Clarissa could live her life.
She killed herself for the hours separate she with her husband, as much as the hours kept Richard alive. They were both living for the other party and not themselves; and only by dying that they would free the other party, and ultimately, themselves.