Places example essay topic

Often our choices are based upon our basic needs and what makes us feel safe. Yet, there is always that minute doubt tangled within our gut, wondering what would have happened if we took the dangerous, the hesitant, and the more thrilling path. One of the most universal experiences human beings face as we begin to age is we start to look back upon our lives and wonder if we made the right choices. For some people, they experience a "mid life crisis" and choose to start all over again, desperately yearning for a different result. Others dwell in a sense of melancholy, saddened by their fantasies of what life could have been had they chosen "the other path". What if I had married differently?

What if I had chosen a different career? These "what ifs" begin to pile on top on one another, creating a disappointing mountain of uncertainty and speculation. Within Mrs. Dalloway, Virginia Woolf portrays Mrs. Clarissa Dalloway as a woman who is exploring these questions in a single afternoon of her life. If Mrs. Dalloway were to have kept a diary during this one day in her life, the following is an excerpt of what I think she would have written in it.

Dear Diary, "As a cloud crossed the sun, silence falls on London: and falls on the mind. Effort ceases. Time flaps on the mast. There we stop; there we stand. Rigid, the skeleton of habit upholds the human frames". (49) Earlier today, he just stood there in front of me, his failure figure seeming more daunting than ever before.

As my eyes met his, drapes of memory began to unravel within my mind, uncovering the ancient sheds of abandoned feelings. It was too difficult to ignore the pulsating pain I felt when my eyes met hit. My eyes frantically searched for an escape outlet. As I passed through the gigantic wooden doors towards the small room, I was forced to confront the amber-stillness of a surprisingly place less place. I scanned the room I had just finished cleaning nearly an hour earlier. While it all appeared to be in order and cleansed of any dust or untidiness, any slight disorder popped out at me.

The tired shelves leaned to one side under the weight of absent books, now pushed to the floor perhaps by the wind. Faces were covering the wall, trapped in black and white cruelty of photographs and the muted murmur of faded laughter. I couldn't handle this; it was all too Closer phobic, too intense, too real. I wanted to see the beauty and elegance in the world around me but each time I tried, I kept seeing the disappointing intricate details, which included his face.

Each time I scanned my surrounding questions flooded my mind, "What if I had said yes to him? Would I have been free?" I was terrified to revisit these deserted places because, to my dismay, such places are never empty. They are more alive than my tangible surroundings. These abandoned areas hold my memories that I struggle to reclaim and are scared to connect with. My body yearns for a revitalization of Peter's past passion for me, a time when I felt young and full of choices and directions. My soul longs for a reconnection with that spirit I consciously left behind.

Was it wise to choose the safe road? Was my practical decision honest? I followed my society, not my heart. I find myself slowly decaying from this delicate world. My heart is drenched in fear of the places I can no longer go, or the person I can no longer be. I chose this path, and am supposed to accept what it entails.

However, rather than accept it, I'd rather abandon it all. I no longer want to be a part of a society based on class-based marriages and parties filled with meaningless tea and crumpets. I want an end to all this madness. I want out. Sincerely, Clarissa Dalloway-A lost and finished soul-.