Sitting on my porch I open my weekly copy of the Minnesota Daily. “Three Year Anniversary of West Egg Mogul’s Death”, it reads to me. I let my paper fall to my lap and I figure that perhaps that it is why the day resonates such deep feelings of woe. Shakily I decide to continue reading the article. “...shot on an afternoon in his lavish backyard...September 1922...a murder-suicide...”. Suddenly I become attacked by sensations of repugnance. Even though it is a chilly September afternoon, I find that it is seemingly a little difficult to breathe. There is an added formidable, haunting feeling hanging very low in the sky today. It has been three years since that wretched day, and most times I find myself still strongly bothered by its’ events.
Moving out to Minnesota was probably the best decision that I have made. I no longer find myself ensnared by the narcissistic ways of the city and its’ inhabitants. It was all beginning to become way too much for me. I …show more content…
They never interest me. I am so full of a killer disgust for the both of them, especially Tom. I used to find myself wishing he would one day feel the same way Gatsby did. I know more than to let it control me, but it is still there. It is still strong. Never have I actually heard from either of them since leaving the West Egg. Most of the time I am enlightened by the newspaper of their ordeals. They are still as rich and equally egocentric as the other, I find comfort in knowing they are together. They truly both do deserve one another, after all, ignorance is bliss. So I imagine they are both very, very happy together. It is easy to imagine Tom, still full of misdirected rage and absent-minded. And Daisy, whom I can bet slyly continues to live her life at the expense of others. My thought is broken by a ring from the telephone coming from inside the house. In much confusion, I steadily make my way through the front door. Grabbing the phone, I
Moving out to Minnesota was probably the best decision that I have made. I no longer find myself ensnared by the narcissistic ways of the city and its’ inhabitants. It was all beginning to become way too much for me. I …show more content…
They never interest me. I am so full of a killer disgust for the both of them, especially Tom. I used to find myself wishing he would one day feel the same way Gatsby did. I know more than to let it control me, but it is still there. It is still strong. Never have I actually heard from either of them since leaving the West Egg. Most of the time I am enlightened by the newspaper of their ordeals. They are still as rich and equally egocentric as the other, I find comfort in knowing they are together. They truly both do deserve one another, after all, ignorance is bliss. So I imagine they are both very, very happy together. It is easy to imagine Tom, still full of misdirected rage and absent-minded. And Daisy, whom I can bet slyly continues to live her life at the expense of others. My thought is broken by a ring from the telephone coming from inside the house. In much confusion, I steadily make my way through the front door. Grabbing the phone, I