“But you fear oblivion.” “Sure, I fear earthly oblivion. But, I mean, not to sound like my parents,
but I believe humans have souls, and I believe in the conservation of souls.
The oblivion fear is something else, fear that I won’t be able to give anything in exchange for my life.
If you don’t live a life in service of a greater good, you’ve gotta at least die a death in service of a greater good, you know?
And I fear that I won’t get either a life or a death that means anything.” I just shook my head.
“What?” he asked. “Your obsession with, like, dying for something or leaving behind some great sign of your heroism or whatever.
It’s just weird.” “Everyone wants to lead an extraordinary life.” “Not everyone,” I said, unable to disguise my annoyance.
“Are you mad?” “It’s just,” I said, and then couldn’t finish my sentence. “Just,” I said again.
Between us flickered the candle. “It’s really mean of you to say that the only lives that matter
are the ones that are lived for something or die for something. That’s a really mean thing to say to me.”
I felt like a little kid for some reason, and I took a bite of dessert to make it appear like it was not that big of a deal to me.
“Sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean it like that. I was just thinking about myself.”
전체재생
다음페이지
문장검색