Stories have a way of pulling in the reader, and the more dramatic the story, the more this becomes true. “Where Are You Going, Where Have You Been?” is one of those stories. It's a bit like watching a car crash. You know what's going to happen and you don't want to see it but at the same time you can't look away. Why would anyone want to read such a story? It definitely doesn't have a happy ending. The reader knows that once Connie steps out that door her life is essentially over. However, once you know the story, the whole grisly truth of it, you know what to avoid, what to do so that you don't end up like Connie. And to hear it in a story makes it that much more effective, because stories come at the truth with a slant. They make it seem more interesting. It's a bit like reality television. There's no reality to it, only at best a blurred retelling of what has been. Yet, in a way all our lives are like stories. We are too wrapped up in our own little corners of the world to realize it most of the time. Perhaps if we understood this idea, knew that we were just retellings of people come before us, we would gain some sense of control over our lives. As a culture we have lost our memories. We do not like to think about the past. We would rather think only about our own miniscule existences, when we will be able to fill our stomachs next and what we can do to keep ourselves happy. However, if we were to use our brains, we would be able to make sense of a lot of nonsense.
How do I know what I think till I see what I say?
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