this section includes both my personal writing and academic work (for classes & for college app essays), im ALSOOO debating adding past s&d cases here, but the formatting of those is so so sooo weird

i use this space to keep everything in one place and track how my writing + beliefs change over time !!

Time is often regarded as an unchangeable “fact” of life, something by which individuals allow themselves to be consumed. Most people let time influence every aspect of their lives, from scheduling daily tasks to measuring major life milestones. Yet, a key issue emerges: time is relative. The notion of “time” is largely man-made, and its measurement often fails to align with natural cycles. This isn’t to say that time itself doesn't exist, because as I write this, moments are passing by. One cannot deny that time exists in its entirety, since aging is a fact of the passing of years. Scientifically, time is measurable; physics describes it as a dimension intertwined with space. Even Albert Einstein’s theory of relativity demonstrates that time can move differently depending on speed and gravity, suggesting that time is not as fixed as once imagined, even from a scientific viewpoint. However, we often define time not by the scientific definition but by human perception; time is relative because its conceptualization varies across societies. For example, lunar and solar calendars define a year differently.

To understand why time is relative, we must consider its purpose. Why did people create time if they could survive without strict schedules? History shows that time began being tracked to maximize survival: people needed to monitor days, nights, and seasons to manage agriculture and align traditions with recurring events. As societies advanced, time began to influence not just the harvest, but also personal growth. This issue is not new—age and growth have always affected when people marry, have children, or pass away. The difference between cultures and eras lies in the timing of these milestones. What does this imply? It suggests that time is not an external ruler, but is deeply intertwined with human experience. People impose time on themselves to create meaning and structure in life. It allows individuals to feel accomplished by reaching certain milestones “on time.” Achieving a milestone earlier than others can even create a sense of being “profound.” The fact that cultures differ in their views on life events demonstrates that time does not pass equally for all; it is relative.

(note : break down the logistics of time being used moreso now as a human evaluator / sort of test)

This idea is easy to grasp and widely accepted. The diversity of cultural experiences with time is so fundamental that few people question it—we’ve all read about the shift away from marrying off children before they are old enough to drive. While the timing of life’s moments may change, the underlying purpose remains the same. In part, this drive to schedule life’s events paves the way for fueling capitalism. The phrase “time is money” highlights an unfortunate reality: time takes on different meanings for different individuals. Someone born wealthy may have to work less to maintain their status, while someone born into poverty must work more just to survive. Objectively, everyone has the same number of hours in a day, but those in poverty must spend much of them working. The difference in “disposable” time across income groups is significant. Furthermore, the value of time is eroding in capitalist societies, where workplaces increasingly focus on hours spent rather than tasks completed—often compromising work quality just to appear “busy.” In employment, time is relative to the amount of money one wants to earn or the hours required by salary guidelines. For many, time becomes a function of how much must be earned to survive (not to mention the vast gap between a living wage and a minimum wage). Time becomes a burden, as workers constantly check the clock and wait for the workday to end. To put it succinctly, Karl Marx wrote: “Time is everything, man is nothing; he is no more than the carcass of time.” Despite humanity “creating” time as we understand it, it has become a kind of prison. People are confined by what they “should” accomplish at each milestone, and by the workplace standard of 8-hour days, 5 days a week. It is a self-imposed cycle: people follow the rules and standards of time, often forgetting that these standards only persist if we choose to uphold them. Even in a non-capitalist society, where workers might be valued for performance instead of hours, time would still define milestones.

On a similar standard, time becomes a hurdle for the average person to grow. Due to the unfortunate reality of how individuals are expected to complete tasks, at some point, it begins to feel “too late” to start or even finish something. When considering schooling, if one does not complete their schooling within what is seen as an “acceptable” timeline, it becomes difficult to accomplish due to societal perceptions, or the accomplishment's worth diminishes. Getting a high school diploma / GED becomes seen as “embarrassing” if it’s not accomplished on the standard timeline (or in the standard way), and taking more than a gap year between high school and college leads to the perception that one is behind and/or unsuccessful. There is an almost universal fear of starting “too late”, despite the fact that time itself is infinite and thus there shouldn’t be a “too late”.

The time at which an individual does/starts a task is perceived to directly correlate to their success – people are viewed as “unsuccessful” if they fail to adhere to the standard of a degree by the time they are ~24, and women begin being viewed negatively if they are not married with children by their 30’s.

(note : the worth of time needs to be addressed somewhere in the above paragraph, also)

There is an important distinction between biological and social milestones. It’s not that these milestones aren’t important or necessary, but milestones beyond biological development are driven by flexible human standards. Scientifically, a child should speak, walk, and develop certain skills at specific ages, but beyond these developmental milestones, what one “should” do is shaped by societal desires. The expectation that a woman should be married or have children before thirty, for example, lacks scientific justification—yet it is explained by social ideas of time.

Arguably, this suggests that it’s not necessarily time that’s relative but the societal standards for what should be accomplished at any given moment. However, it is crucial to understand that societal standards come from a culture's perception of time. There are very few things that are standard across the board in considering the passage of time — we see in some Asian countries that even birthdays are not determined by the moment you are brought into the world, but by the year that has passed. The traditions held within communities are directly associated with how they perceive time; if there were a universal standard of time, cultural differences would certainly diminish.

This relativity also appears in our experience of life. Philosopher Heidegger argued that the awareness of mortality shapes existence. This awareness creates purpose and urgency. Individuals perceive their personal time as finite, while time itself appears boundless. This distinction deepens our understanding of the relativity of experience. Ultimately, time matters less as a scientific absolute and more as a human construct. It shapes our sense of meaning and mortality. No one is immortal, by any accepted definition. Death awaits us all, a prospect that can be unsettling. Nevertheless, people often regard time as infinite. While our lifespans end, most assume that existence endures. The core contradiction is this: “My time is finite, yet time is infinite.” It provides a sense of comfort, similar to that found in religious beliefs. Death is inevitable, yet under the assumption that time itself is never-ending, it’s effortless to find comfort in the prospect of continuation. Across hundreds of different religious bases, there appears a common belief that death isn’t finite, that there is a chance of more — an afterlife in utopia, reincarnation, or even a version of purgatory — there is some genre of an explanation to quell the despair that comes with the foretelling of one's own fate.

Here, the eternal recurrence, a concept introduced by Nietzsche, takes hold.

(note : expand here )

Diving deeper into the philosophical aspect of time, it becomes clear that comprehension shifts, becoming increasingly difficult to grasp. St. Augustine famously said, “What then is time? If no one asks me, I know; if I wish to explain it, I do not know.” Beyond the scientific implications of how time passes, we do not truly know how time is defined or what its objective purpose is. When we think of time within our own minds, it’s simple to follow the meaning that time is simply just time — it’s the passage of a moment from one instant to the next — yet when we are asked beyond the logistics of time, what it is that man falters.

Philosopher Bergson further explored this idea by distinguishing between “clock time” and “lived time”.

(note : does man control time, or does time control man? By man's creation, one would assume man would be in control, but yk..)

Nihilism is a widely misunderstood philosophy; its definition is simple: “the rejection of all religious and moral principles, in the belief that life is meaningless”. The difficulties in grasping and implementing nihilism as a philosophy/belief come from the contradictions of life itself and nihilism. Considering “the belief that life is meaningless,” there is an implied level of suicidal ideation that is inherent to nihilism itself — if there is no purpose to life, there is no purpose in living one. Yet there are individuals who live as nihilists. Now, this isn’t necessarily to imply that all nihilists should, or want to, kill themselves, as it can be argued that one doesn’t need a purpose to live; one can live without a purpose. There is also a standard that suicide itself has meaning — there is a purpose in suicide to leave one's life/world; the action isn’t meaningless, and therefore contradicts nihilism. (note: expand) Oftentimes nihilism is associated with an urge to destroy — to a(nihil)ate. To bring the entire world/society to nothingness, you could associate this with complete anarchy. However, this too serves a purpose. There is some purpose and meaning in wanting to bring everything to nothing. The entire belief is paradoxical.

No matter which way you perceive nihilism, the contradictions are clear; there is an absolute lack of objectivity in the belief, and its core fails almost entirely. To be point-blank: Nihilism cannot and does not truly exist. The nihilists who are inevitably going to stumble upon this are likely going to argue that they’re nihilists and simply “accepting the meaningless” or they’ll spit out some specific genre of nihilism — of those that will be addressed momentarily — perhaps even arguing that whilst life is meaningless ultimately, there is reason to spend life seeking some form of meaning. For the first and last arguments, I have one statement: you are an absurdist, not a nihilist. For the arguments of each form of nihilism, this will be addressed as well.

Before continuing, it is necessary to define absurdism, as it is often confused with nihilism and will be referenced continuously. Absurdism, most notably associated with Albert Camus, holds that while life may lack inherent meaning, humans will inevitably seek meaning nonetheless. Absurdism embraces the contradictions of life and meaninglessness and uses them to live out of spite, unlike nihilists. This distinction is crucial, as many who claim nihilism are, in practice, closer to absurdism.

Now, one could argue that it is simply the current world that lacks meaning, and so they are nihilists whose goal is to create a sense of meaning in a new world. This is also not nihilistic because there is meaning in action. One cannot claim to believe in a philosophy in which everything is meaningless whilst also claiming to want to “rebuild a meaningful world”; see the issue?

Before we attempt to dive into the offshoots of nihilism, we must look at the father of philosophy (not the person “father”, just the belief), Pure Nihilism. “[Which] asserts that there is absolutely no inherent meaning, purpose, or value within life, existence, morality, or the universe as a whole. Nothing possesses objective importance; nothing ultimately matters”. This belief asserts that everything is arbitrary; there is nothing. Unfortunately, for nihilists, the mere fact that one is alive contradicts this belief entirely. To exist at all is to make choices, and those choices have meaning and purpose, no matter how hard one denies those purposes. I’m not going to break down the meanings of every single choice one makes, because that is incredibly time-consuming, and (ironically) meaningless. The only fact that one needs to know, considering this, is that every possible action, including waking up, eating, and continuing to live, implies some degree of preference, which implies value, and value implies meaning. Focusing on the decision to continue living rather than dying suggests that life holds some importance for the individual, that they have some reason to want to live (and this is before also considering the flipside, and the purpose in suicide). Under pure nihilism, this preference would not exist because, objectively, nothing is more valuable than anything else. There would not be any choices being made by a “pure nihilist” because choices have purpose. (Including the choice to “become” a nihilist, because by making this choice, you are suddenly applying meaning to your philosophy, which is contradicting said philosophy).

Nihilism, in its purest forms, is self-undermining. If nothing has meaning, then the statement “life is meaningless” must also be meaningless. It cannot be truer, more valuable, or significant than any other statement. Therefore, asserting nihilism as a truth immediately contradicts its own premise. Once again, one is looped into the circle of the meaning in “truth”. The philosophy cannot consistently claim validity without assigning value to truth itself, which it simultaneously denies even exists. This means nihilism cannot justify itself, which I guess might be irrelevant if they don’t care to prove their philosophy over another.

If nihilism does not care about truth, then it has no reason to be believed over any other philosophy. It cannot claim to be correct, more accurate, or even worth considering. Without valuing truth, logic, or consistency, nihilism loses the ability to argue in its own favor entirely. It becomes indistinguishable from any random or contradictory belief because there is no standard by which it can be judged. Moreover, the moment a nihilist attempts to explain, defend, or even clarify their position, they are assigning value to truth and reasoning. They are acting as though their perspective is worth understanding, which directly contradicts the idea that nothing has meaning or value.

Moreover, this contradiction becomes even more apparent when examining how nihilists function in everyday life. The average person is going to hold a job, pay bills, have relationships, and goals (or plans) for their future. Should a nihilist engage in any of this, they are contradicting their own beliefs. Holding a job and working for a paycheck gives meaning and value to that paycheck and the money it holds; paying bills gives meaning to whatever the bill is for (i.e., paying rent gives important value to comfort). Everything an individual does gives meaning to that action, or what that action stands for. Even the small things, like filling the gas tank, setting an alarm, and making dinner, give value and meaning to something beyond.

Now, it is likely that one is going to read that paragraph and claim that “well, in this society these actions are necessities, you can’t survive if you don’t perform them”, and to this all I have to say is that necessity itself implies priority, and priority implies value. To continue participating in a structured society — and to create a life in that society — is to act as though certain outcomes are preferable to others, which is the opposite of nihilistic. Nihilism cannot be separated from lived experience. A person may claim that nothing matters, but their actions will inevitably demonstrate otherwise. They’re simply spitting out their beliefs and then failing to live those beliefs — and in part, because it’s impossible.

This isn’t to say that one cannot have nihilistic beliefs; one can believe in anything they wish. It is possible to have minor nihilistic aspects within your beliefs; for example, you can believe in political or religious nihilism, and this isn't necessarily entirely contradictory. There is still an issue here, however, as these very niche-specific nihilistic beliefs do have other names (arguably, political nihilism is just anarchy), and it can be difficult to place them in nihilism when they can only be “true” when believed alongside another belief that isn't pure nihilism. These beliefs need something to make them make sense. If we break them down further into political nihilism, it’s likely that one follows from a separate belief that leads them to feel there is no purpose in politics. (Maybe for reasons that focus on equity, ethics, or simply dislike). Regardless of the reason, there must be some rationale or meaning behind these beliefs, which sorta separates them from nihilism, even though they retain their nihilistic aspects.

This rationale is why most forms of “nihilism” are not truly nihilism, and why nihilism cannot function as a lived philosophy. It’s abundantly clear that every attempt to fully embody nihilism results in contradiction, and every sustained version of it transforms into something else. (anarchy, absurdism, etc).

However, a nihilist might argue that while nothing has an inherent, universal meaning, individuals can still experience preferences, make choices, and assign personal value to things without contradicting nihilism. This would mean that choosing to live, work, or form relationships would not disprove nihilism. These actions are not objectively meaningful — they simply feel meaningful to the individual. Therefore, a nihilist could continue living and acting as they please without inconsistency, as long as they recognize that their perceived meaning is ultimately constructed within their own mind and not real in any universal sense. Unfortunately for nihilists, this argument also destroys their entire philosophy. If subjective meaning is allowed to exist in any significant capacity, then nihilism is no longer being fully upheld, because that individual is, once again, creating meaning. If they continuously act upon the same preferences in their life, then those preferences are going to begin governing their behavior, and the fact that the meaning isn’t “objective” no longer matters. At this point, the philosophy begins to resemble existentialism (or absurdism, but we’ve already covered this) instead.

In this argument, in which an individual can define their own subjective meaning as long as they grasp that, objectively, it’s meaningless, we see an overlap with existentialism (often associated with Jean-Paul Sartre), where meaning is reintroduced through the individual. Existentialism argues that, in the absence of inherent purpose/meaning, individuals are “condemned to be free”; they must construct their own values, identities, and purposes through their choices. Which is exactly what subjective meaning implies. The moment a nihilist begins assigning “subjective meaning” to their actions, they are no longer rejecting meaning entirely. Meaning still exists in a functional sense through the individual. It still influences their, well, everything. Whether that meaning is labeled “subjective” or not becomes irrelevant in practice, because it continues to operate as meaning, which doesn’t really work in a meaningless philosophy.

On the other hand, existentialism acknowledges the absence of inherent meaning but replaces it with one crafted by the individual. Absurdism acknowledges the same absence but chooses to live in defiance of it. Nihilism, in action, often falls into one of these two philosophies, becuase nihilism itself cannot be lived. It attempts to eliminate meaning entirely, but in doing so, it removes the very foundation required for thought, action, and belief. Three things that are critical for a philosophy: it cannot assert truth without assigning value, cannot be lived without implying preference, and cannot be maintained without transforming into another philosophy entirely.

(note: bring in more extns. throughout all)​

In Fyodor Dostoevsky’s “Crime and Punishment,” all the characters are incredibly complex; they each have internal turmoil and struggles that make them human. They’re all intricately woven within one another, and within themselves and their pasts and ideologies. Svidrigailov is an incredible example of this, and the humanization of someone who would otherwise be no more than a “villain”. Svidrigailov’s complexities are most prominently explored through nihilism and the eternal punishment within one's own mind. Svidrigailov is indeed a horrific individual; his actions are implied to be irredeemable, but it is by his own accord. It is Svidrigailov himself who allows his past actions to haunt his everyday life; he commits himself to eternal punishment via suicide.

Svidrigailov’s crimes occur before we ever come into contact with him; it’s known from the first time his name is ever uttered that he is an awful person. He is the embodiment of nihilism in its extremest; it’s almost certain to assume that he lacks morals entirely and feels no guilt for any of his actions. He’s representative of the “extraordinary man” Raskonnikov yearns to be, although it is later revealed that he is no more than ordinary. The first “encounter” we have with Svidrigailov is through a letter speaking of his treatment of Dounia whilst she was employed under him. Dounia’s mother — who is also the mother of Raskonnikov — writes to Raskonnikov to inform him of what she knows about Svidrigailov’s treatment of Dounia, a letter that later reveals she is watering down the account to ensure Raskonnikov does not “go after” Svidrigailov for insulting his sister. It is in this conversation that Svidrigailov’s feelings towards Dounia are revealed “...Mr. Svidrigailov treated her very rudely and used to make disrespectful jeering remarks at the table...conceived a passion for Dounia...hoped by his rude and sneering behavior to hide the truth from others...” (Bk. I, Ch. 1, pg. 25-26). It is implied that Svidrigailov is a middle-aged man, so we could assume he is in his 40s, whilst Dounia is likely in her early 20s. This, combined with Svidrigailov’s history of pursuing and assaulting younger women, adds to the power position he holds over Dounia, setting a darker light over his “passion” for Dounia. There is an implication that his behavior is predatory from the start; he’s immediately portrayed as wildly manipulative. A light that is confirmed when he later tells Dounia that “It is very difficult to prove an assault, Avdotya Romanovna [Dounia] ” (Bk. VI, Ch. 5, pg. 388). Svidrigailov’s pursuit of Dounia is illuminated in an extraordinary, sickening light; not only is he cheating on his wife, Marfa, but there is an implication that he is obsessed with Dounia, in part because of the power he holds over her and her innocence. His willingness to assault her, combined with his statement to her that she will not be able to prove it, truly illuminates the lack of moral compass Svidrigailov has at the beginning. Svidrigailov is self-aware that he is an ill person, but he is also aware that he has an abundance of power, which feeds into the nihilistic beliefs that enable him to live and do whatever he pleases without fear or guilt of the consequences on his victims and himself. Svidrigailov is a serial cheater (and an implied serial abuser), and it is incredibly difficult to discern whether or not he feels any remorse for his actions at the beginning, since he continuously commits the same crimes.

Svidrigailov perfectly aligns with the “extraordinary man” that Raskonikov aspires to be and writes about; he is a mirror of Raskolnikov's nihilistic aspects in this theory. The “extraordinary man” theory, as written by Raskonikov, is a state of being in which “...extraordinary men have a right to commit any crime and to transgress the law in any way, just because they are extraordinary” (Bk. III Ch. 5, pg.). Svidrigailov appears to have no barriers to his crimes, no hesitation in his cruel actions, and, for the majority of the book, no guilt either. He lives his life as if there are no consequences to his actions, though we begin to see his demeanor slip as the book progresses. One of the first examples of this shift comes from the question: “The question is, am I a monster, or am I myself a victim?” (Bk. IV Ch. 1, pg. 398). There is a level of conflict in this moment because it brings the reader to an awareness that Svidrigailov is indeed aware that he is a monster, and there isn’t much he’s doing to shift away from being a monster. On the other side of this conflict, we have to take into account in which way Svidrigailov can be a “victim”, because if he isn’t attempting to change, how is he meant to be empathized with? The way in which he is a victim isn’t extremely obvious, because the reader is already in a state to despise him.

The first moment we get a glimpse into where Svidrigailov stands as a victim is when his hallucinations are revealed when he admits to Raskonikov that “[Marfa Petrovna] has been here three times... first on the very day of her funeral...” (Bk. IV Ch. 1, pg. 405) Svidrigailov has been seeing his wife, who has died from, at best, suspicious reasons, since the day of her funeral. Under the assumption that Svidrigailov has indeed killed her, these hallucinations seem to be a physical example of a way in which his past is haunting him. It removes the belief that Svidrigailov is living without any sense of guilt or consequence, because he is indeed suffering the consequences of his actions, in a way that appears remorseful. Svidrigailov also doesn’t do a single thing to reduce these hallucinations or speak of them as if they’re a joke; it appears that he is content in the suffering, content in allowing himself to be punished for his actions.

After this admission, we start seeing other breaks in Svidrigailov’s complex, such as the scene where he has trapped Dunia in his room and has been attempting to assault her. He rapidly shifts personalities throughout this scene, first offering Dounia everything and offering to get her, Razumihin, and Raskonikov passports, before then threatening to rape her and informing her that “It is very difficult to prove an assault, Avdotya Romanovna [Dounia] ” (Bk. VI, Ch. 5, pg. 388). After Dounia grazes him with a bullet, he tells her the gun is loaded incorrectly and to fix it while he waits if she truly wants to kill him, surprised when she does not. It is shortly after this moment that Svidrigailov’s complex crumples when he asks Dounia if she loves him, and if she could ever, turning away at her “no” and offering the key up for her to leave the room. It is also after this exit that his trip to “America” is again alluded to as Svidrigailov looks at the gun on the floor of the room, “It could be fired again. He thought a little, put the revolver in his pocket, took his hat and went out” (Bk. VI, Ch. 5, pg. 391). Svidrigailov is fully aware that Dounia will never love him, and there is something human enough within him to stop pushing her, but this aspect is continually fleeting as he struggles to decide whether he wants to fight to be a good person. The moment when he pockets the revolver, noting its ability to be used again, is one of the nails in the coffin where he determines himself irredeemable and begins progressing towards his trip. Dounia appears to be a hammer to Svidrigailov’s nihilistic complex because there is something deep within him that yearns to be with Dounia, from the very start with his obsession with her working, to him offering her some of the money from Marfa’s death, and continuing on every time he tells her he’s willing to provide her anything she could ever dream of. It is the same gun she shot at him that he will eventually use to take his own life. Svidrigailov could not corrupt Dounia, or ever make her love him, and whilst this isn’t the only reason for his suicide, this moment does seem to hold a great weight.

However, Dounia isn’t the only character to break his complex; we also see moments when he is empathetic towards others, such as when he provides Katerina’s children with a generous sum of money after her passing. Svidrigailov, completely out of character, takes over all the finances due in the situation, promising that “ I [Svidrigailov] will undertake all the arrangements, the funeral, and that… I will put those two little ones and Polkena into some good orphanage asylum, and I will settle fifteen hundred roubles to be paid to each on coming of age…” (Bk. V Ch. 5, pg. 343). Now, he does do this for Dounia, as he tells Raskonikov to tell Dounia this is how he is spending the money she rejected, but this action does show that he could change. Svidrigailov can adapt Dounia’s beliefs the way Raskolnikov adapts Sonia’s, using this kindness and need to impress her and convince her he is a good person, and genuinely becoming a good person, which is a fact Svidrigailov himself is aware of, as he later, while picturing her image admits, “I never particularly desired to avenge myself… and the promises I made… perhaps she would have made a new man out of me somehow…” (Bk. VI, Ch. 6, pg. 397). Svidrigailov knows he could have used her morals to change himself, used her as inspiration, as she was already making him act kinder and yearn to be perceived as good by her.

Despite the inherent selfishness that he admits to inspiring all these actions, these show that Svidrigailov is capable of starting to redeem himself, but after each scenario, he slinks back into his old ways and continues to be an evil person, highlighting his belief — later confirmed — that he does not find himself “worthy” of change. Svidrigailov has the ability, and maybe even the willpower, to change, but he lacks a connection to his heart. He does not believe himself “worthy” of redemption, and so he continues to sit in his own mind filled with nihilistic beliefs. Up until this point in the book, Svidrigailov had been the mirror of Raskonikov, the reflection of Raskonikov’s nihilistic viewpoints. Once it becomes clear that Svidrigailov will not allow himself to change, this reflection shatters. Raskonikov does make the change as he confesses [insert quote] to the murders, and later adapts kinder beliefs, [quote on taking Sonia's beliefs]. Svidrigailov, on the other hand, “changes” by leaving for “America”.

In what may be the most telling scene regarding his character, we see the darkest parts of Svidrigailov continue to haunt him through a series of three dreams preceding his departure for “America”. In his first dream, the “mouse dream”, Svidrigailov is overrun by a mouse that is crawling over him and under his clothing. This is the most mundane dream in the sequence, but it does carry the weight of showcasing his guilt. The mouse is associated with death/dirtiness, what Svidrigailov causes, and who he is; it also represents the way he “contaminates” everything, pestering his desires until they no longer exist. In the second dream, Svidrigailov finds himself standing before a pure white coffin, with a young girl lying lifeless inside. “She was only fourteen, but her heart was broken. And she had destroyed herself, crushed by an insult that had appalled and amazed that childish soul, had smirched that angel purity with unmerited disgrace and torn from her a last scream of despair.” (Bk. VI Ch. 6, pg. 398) Svidrigailov is forcefully looking at the corpse of an individual that he (likely) indirectly killed. There is an implication of suicide in her death, and an even heavier implication that it was he who ultimately led to her suicide. He’d likely assaulted her and “smirched that angel purity” and then continued to insult and attack her afterward, until she could no longer withstand it. This dream, combined with his continued hallucinations of his late wife, Marfa, is an admission of his role as a murderer. The final dream in the sequence also involves a young girl, though she is only 5 and, in fact, alive. Svidrigailov looks at this toddler and brings her home, where he then undresses her, “But now she quite gave up all effort, now it was a grin, a broad grin; there was something shameless, provocative in that quite unchildish face; it was depravity, it was the face of a harlot, the shameless face of a French harlot. Now both eyes opened wide; they turned a glowing, shameless glance upon him; they laughed, invited him....” (Bk. VI Ch. 6, pg. 400). Svidrigailov looks into the eyes of a child so young it’s impossible to believe there could be anything but innocence in their eyes, and he claims they are inviting him in to molest her. Svidrigailov is unable to see innocence as innocent; his very conscience contaminates whatever it perceives almost immediately. This series of dreams preceding his suicide is his final admission of his guilt for what he has done, and the way in which he thinks. They’re the expression of his internal punishment.

Svidrigailov’s suicide is his final break in his complexion. His suicide is the collapse of his nihilism, as he is finally asserting meaning and consequences to his actions. Svidrigailov’s nihilistic life has been part of his punishment, living without consequences and pretending to be guilt-free. This view ends as he holds the revolver that “…could be fired again” to his head, and departs for “America”. Svidrigailov stops in front of a watchtower, so “it will be in the presence of an official witness…” (Bk. VI, Ch. 6, pg. 401). The “witness” who approaches Svidrigailov is none other than the Jewish Achilles who informs Svidrigailov numerous times that this is not the place to kill himself. It is after this third warning from this Jewish Achilles that Svidrigailov pulls the trigger. Svidrigailov’s suicide is filled with biblical allusions that illuminate his character within its final moments, from the 3 warnings leveling out to the 3 moments Peter rejected Jesus, to the Jewish Achilles representing the juxtaposition in how Jewish people were perceived during this time, and the perception of the hero Achilles, and the juxtaposition of Svidrigailov’s suicide and his nihilistic beliefs. Moreover, we can connect this entire scene to a biblical pattern in the book of Ezekiel, where Ezekiel is appointed by God as a “watchman” to warn people of coming judgments and to blow a horn to warn them. If the watchman blows the trumpet and the people ignore it, the people are responsible for their own destruction. However, if the watchman fails to warn, he is held responsible for the lost lives. The “watchman,” or Jewish Achilles, was warning Svidrigailov, but Svidrigailov refused to listen, believing himself unworthy of redemption or forgiveness.

Nihilism is the belief that “no inherent meaning exists for any x” (Sinan, 2025), and narracism is the “focus on an inflated sense of self-importance, entitlement, and an intense need for admiration”, both of these beliefs involve a lack of empathy, and function purely for selfish desires, often disregarding morality and treating people as means to an end or as disposable. Often, being a nihilist makes one inherently narcissistic as they have no meaning beyond what they wish to do, and no reason to care for others beyond themselves. In Fyodor Dostoevsky’s “Crime and Punishment”, Dostoevsky explores the lived experience of a nihilist and the unsustainability of living this way. Dostoevsky, through his characters, breaks into the psyche of a nihilist, and how their lack of meaning provides a false sense of “freedom”, a freedom that is truly found in existentialism — “If no inherent meaning exists for an individual x, then x has freedom and responsibility to create meaning” (Sinan, 2025) — where freedom is found through the suffering of life, and the relationships formed through caring for an individual, aspects explored through each of the characters.

At first glance, the major nihilistic view we see in the book is the murder of the landlady by Raskolnikov. This first exposure immediately roots nihilism in narracism. Raskolnikov uses his nihilistic philosophy to spin a narrative in his head about the landlady being “useless” and “worthless,” convincing himself that she has no true value on earth and therefore justifying her removal from it. Raskonikov continued to justify his murder by dehumanizing her and diminishing her worth, while simultaneously preaching nihilistic philosophies and trying to make the claim that he was an "extraordinary man” – one who could do as they pleased with guilt or consequences, as they were “superior” – an aspect he uses to lift himself above all of those who would fall into the “ordinary” category. From the start Raskolnikov is a prime example of the failure to live as a nihilist, as right after the murder he finds himself wondering, “If it all has really been done deliberately and not idiotically, if I really had a certain and definite object, how is it I did not even glance into the purse and don't know what I had there, for which I have undergone these agonies, and have deliberately undertaken this base, filthy degrading business? And here I wanted at once to throw into the water the purse together with all the things which I had not seen either . . . how's that?" (Bk. II, Chp. 2). Raskonikov himself cannot make sense of his actions; if they were purely nihilistic, he would not be concerned with the contents of the purse at all, and if they were selfish, he would’ve emptied the purse of all value. His conflict over the purse represents his failure in nihilism, as he connects the meaning of the landlady’s life to her belongings, ones he cannot bring himself to destroy or take, as the guilt begins to eat him. His guilt for the murders began to physically ail him immediately after the actions, sending him into delirium as his conscience ate at his actions. “But how did I murder her? Is that how men do murders? Do men commit a murder as I did then? I will tell you someday how I went! Did I murder the old woman? I murdered myself, not her! I crushed myself once for all, forever.… But it was the devil that killed that old woman, not I. Enough, enough, Sonia, enough! Let me be!” he cried in a sudden spasm of agony, “let me be!”. Raskonikov’s admission of the way her murder killed him as well is his admission that he is not “extraordinary” and cannot live a nihilistic life, as the meaning of his actions eats him alive. The suffering he experiences prompts him to shift away from nihilism when he confesses his actions, and later he adopts Sonia’s meanings and beliefs, beginning his journey into existentialism.

The failure of nihilism is prominently explored through Svididrigov — the representation of a perfect “extraordinary” man, one of the most narcissistic characters. Svidrigailov is self-aware that he is an ill person, but he is also aware that he has an abundance of power, which feeds into the nihilistic beliefs that enable him to live and do whatever he pleases without fear or guilt of the consequences on his victims and himself. All of his actions are rooted in what is best for him, and all events he is present at must ultimately circle back to him. His donations to Katerina’s children were intended to increase Dounia’s love for him; they were never in the children's true interest. This is a continuous theme for him, as was explored in his character analysis. Towards the end, it becomes clear that Svididrigov is not the “true” nihilist he has been made out to be. Unlike a true nihilist, who would feel no attachment or consequence, Svidrigailov is haunted by what he has done, as is clear in his hallucinations of his late wife, Marfa, and the series of dreams preceding his suicide. Svidrigailov’s suicide itself is representative of the collapse of nihilism, as it leaves him, metaphorically, in a weird in-between of nihilism and existentialism. Existentialism, Nietzsche perceives suicide as something not “ inherently irrational but suggests that, in certain circumstances, it can be a means of regaining control when life appears devoid of purpose“. (“Between Meaning and Despair: Understanding Existential Struggles and Suicide Risk”) Existentialism does aim to promote one to find meaning and survival through it anyway, but it does not condemn suicide and grasps the logic behind one living such a nihilistic life. Svidrigailov’s final act, that of suicide, is the final crash of nihilism, as there is a standard that suicide itself has meaning — there is a purpose in suicide to leave one's life/world; the action isn’t meaningless, and therefore contradicts nihilism. Svididrigov found a meaning through taking his own life; his suicide was his shift out of nihilism. It’s the final reveal that there is no freedom within nihilism; his “freedom”, death, came from a final decision to set a meaning to an aspect of his life.

Dostoevsky illuminates the shift from nihilism/narracism to existentialism by simply following the failure of the former. The simple existence of nihilism within an individual leads to a meaningless, unsustainable life. Whether one attempts to follow nihilism or live it, they will both falter. Raskonikov failed in his life to be a true nihilist as his guilt physically ate away at him until he confessed and found meaning in his life via Sonia, and later her beliefs as well. Svididrigov failed as a true nihilist, because he too was eaten at by his guilt, although the one he might’ve hoped for salvation through denied him, and he felt unworthy himself; his nihilism ended in a bullet to his head. Despite the grimness of Svididrigov’s death, they both were awarded rebirth and freedom in existentialism by the end. Raskolnikov's emergence as a new man, the path we can assume he’ll follow after his sentence, and Svididrigov in his death, his final escape from a life void of life.

I was once consumed by the dream of being hit by a truck: turning a corner, being flung to the side, spinning over and over. I wanted to feel my life flash before my eyes, survive it, and return to find everything collapsing around me. I craved the rawness of vulnerability—not for myself, but for my mother. The dream seeped into my bones, a desperate wish to feel as she had felt.
I’ve lacked stability for as long as I could speak, moving too often to count. I’ve grown used to not knowing where we’d be or who we’d be with at month’s end. Since seventh grade, we’ve been considered legally homeless within every school I’ve attended; a mark on my record separating me from every other student within those walls. I’ve lacked the very essentials to being a typical teenager – a house, a place to belong.

My only constant has been my mother—my rock, the person I couldn't imagine losing. Growing up, she felt invincible; I never feared we’d be separated. Through every home and every uncertainty, she stayed by my side, supporting me.
Starting high school seemed like one of the scariest moments in my life at the time: an entirely new town, school, and people. The first day of freshman year felt like what I imagined the first level of hell to be – everyone seemed to watch my every move, study my traits. It felt like the end of the world. The second day arrived; the world continued to spin. As the week moved on, life didn’t stop oscillating. I made myself a home. I worked on becoming the person I wanted to be. By joining Speech and Debate, I found myself surrounded by a group that became my family.

As I established a place for myself, my mother began training for her new job as a bus driver for the district. For once, it felt like everything would fall together for us. My mother would have a job, we’d finally have an income, and we could afford our own house— it was exciting. After many years of uncertainty, everything was now in place. It felt as if nothing bad could happen. Finally, we were on a straight shot to the life we’d always imagined—the one she always promised me when times were rough.
Unfortunately, when things fall, they crash. As October spins around the corner at an alarming pace, my phone rings mid-practice; my aunt's ID flashes on the screen. My mother is in the hospital. She didn’t have her phone, didn’t know my number, and wasn’t sure when she’d be home. Earlier that day, they’d turned a corner and been pummelled by a semi-truck; the bus had flipped and was totaled. The line goes dead. My mother—my rock—was suddenly fragile, her invincibility ripped away. Reality pressed down on me: nothing would remain the same. My support was slipping away.

Throughout my entire life, my mother had been my glue; she’d held me together through everything. I couldn’t let my fear of losing her overtake me because she wasn’t gone. It was simply time for the roles to switch; it was my turn to be the glue, keeping her together; it was my turn to be her support. I did everything in my power to help her between school, work, and activities. I increased everything I was doing to ensure she wasn’t overexerting herself, and when the time came that she was released from work due to her injuries, I comforted her. I understood that we were back at square one, once again without an income, without plans for a house of our own. However, it wasn’t the same; I had already had the experience in my heart, and I knew what to do and what to expect. All we had to do was adapt and wait for the lawsuit settlement to be finalized. We just had to keep moving – just as we always had. The only difference was that it was my turn to be her pillar.

Three years later, as my senior year drew near and the lawsuit remained unsettled, my eyes finally opened. The crash was life-changing—of course. It was not life-ending. Our world continued to oscillate, yet we pressed onward; only our pace had changed. Not every burden should be shouldered. Though I cannot remove the weight of pain from my mother's back, I can lessen it. When I try to mitigate the impact fully, I only shift the issues onto myself. Shouldering her burden isn't possible, but I can help by simply standing at her side, connecting our hands as we lift the burden together. I don’t need her pain to understand her or to be by her side. A house isn't mandatory to make a home.

“It’s unnatural,”

I’ve heard these words countless times, often from strangers eavesdropping on conversations. The words usually spill out with other hateful remarks, whispered under their breath, as if hesitant for me to hear. The cause? A simple remark about a girl. I suppose the blame is on me; how dare I be attracted to women, as one? I’ve “made the choice” to be an odd one out, to be “unnatural.”

In the past, I truly wished it were a choice. I pushed down a part of myself to meet others’ standards and be “normal.” It was a trait that made me different, and one I used to fear. I disliked being excluded from what should have been; it felt shameful at the time.

However, I grew up. I became more understanding and discovered myself. The trait that set me apart in society, that made me feel shame, no longer had to stay hidden. I didn’t have to mold myself to suit others. I was my own person. I opened up and brought my differences forward. I used it to create myself. I found what I loved: advocating for the community's rights and connecting with others. My difference became just a fact. It became another area for connection and purpose. The difference didn’t matter anymore. It wasn’t something to be pushed down; it became fuel. It didn’t make me “unnatural.” I’m still human, and my love isn’t relevant in that.

I grew up believing faith was entirely solid — like our multiplication tables, taught and unquestioned. I was essentially born and raised within the church; attending every Sunday for years — bouncing between our home church, the Friends Church, and a separate church, one a little less kind. One who very vividly, very vocally shared their thoughts on those with “sinful attraction”.

As I grew older and began discovering myself, I started questioning my romantic attraction. I fell head over heels for a girl, and felt more shame than ever. I’d been taught to know better. So, I told a friend, laying myself out flat and raw to him, and he gave me words that changed my entire perspective.

“There is no sin greater than hate.”

God is all-loving; he has created each and every one of us within his own image. This understanding made me further question the ideology of sexual attraction being a sin so evil that it condemns one to hell unless they forfeit their love. It’s a shaking thought: how can something so pure, so simple, end in an eternal punishment? It is simply human to love — inevitable, even. Why is one love so wrong when another is beautiful?

As I began understanding myself, my perspective shifted away from what I felt I’d always known — what I’d memorized, the quotes I’d recite for bible bucks. My viewpoint tipped onto its side — I found myself disagreeing with the interpretation of the Bible being spoken. The shame began to subside. I wasn’t tainted, but human. My love was irrelevant, regardless of what the church thought.

Faith and love are intertwined; they exist within each other, beautifully so. The belief that something so innate can be “unnatural” is a perspective I fear I shall never understand; the connection between separate individuals is not the business of anybody but them — and God.

It is not the ability of anybody besides the Lord to look down and judge anybody — we are to treat all of those we encounter with the same love and softness we would our siblings. The perspective of judgment within Christianity is one I will forever lack the ability to understand. The spark point is love, always and forever. It’s the difference between experiencing Christ and experiencing religion.

Love cannot be unnatural when it was so perfectly created to be pure.

Life is insanely difficult, and — the majority of the time — there isn’t an easy solution to the issues presented. Reassurances and motivations fall on deaf ears as they’re cycled over and over again; the meaning gets lost. However, I personally find the ability to understand and power through the difficulties via music, and a lyric that has stayed with me for years now, “I know there’s a full moon every night, it’s just not always as bright,” from Carseat Headrest - Maud Gone, is everything I strive to be. Understandably, the goal to be a song lyric doesn’t seem to make any sense, but that’s simply because it’s the meaning I yearn to be and embrace.
Always being optimistic and seeing the light in difficult moments has always seemed incredibly impossible to me; I’ve never understood how others seem to do it so easily. Darkness seemed to overtake everything, removing the light completely. I wasn’t sure where the light was meant to be coming from. It took years for me to learn to push forward in rough moments, to understand that whilst the light wasn’t visible, it wasn’t gone. Everything goes through phases, similarly to the moon, and in those darker phases, the light isn’t reflected as widely.

Rough moments can be compared to the moon’s crescent phase — there’s some light visible still, but the majority is dark, hard to see, hard to embrace. Conceptually, you know that the moon is always an entire circle, but it’s easy — especially when you’ve never been taught — to assume that the pieces are disappearing, breaking off, or falling away. The knowledge alone isn’t enough to find the entire moon in the sky when it’s not alit, but waiting seems painful; there’s only one full moon a month, after all. It’s the perseverance through that month with that knowledge that is going to get you to that full moon.

The next line of Maud Gone is “but it's been so long since I saw the light, maybe I haven't been looking at the sky”. The ability to power through until you’re embraced in the light again is rough, especially alone. Looking towards others — looking at the sky — and seeking help as needed is crucial. Nothing needs to be done alone, and that’s something I strive to embrace. I want to be a comfort for others, and have a place for myself and them to find our sky that will bring us to the light once again.

Life often seems simple. The complexities of it tend to surface only as one considers the meaning or end. It’s difficult to understand the ways and means of living and the purpose. Expressing and growing to know oneself often comes with a collection of hesitance, even fear. Then, as one knows themself, that hesitation shifts into pure joy, one so expressive it cannot be capped.

The poem — “i thank you god” by e e cummings is an amazing expression of this cycle, it captures the hesitance before the first words are even spoken. The title itself conveys the uncertainty that tends to take root in faith at the beginning. The lowercase “g” in “god” implies that the speaker is not entirely within their fate yet, not entirely sure of the overwhelming presence of an all-over being. Although the title may seem to imply that the poem will be shrouded in uncertainty, the poem itself is redeeming. As the speaker begins to speak, it becomes clear that the title was simply an expression of their past — of the hesitance they once held.

The first stanza is an expression of the speaker finding their faith; the jumpstart of their rebirth within it. In this stanza, the speaker makes the shift from “god” to “God”, a small change in capitalization that speaks beyond words that they’ve finally found their faith in their God. It adds a level of respect that the title did not convey. Along with the capitalization of God, the speaker uses lowercase letters, except for the first line, “i thank YOU God for most this amazing,” which clearly shows where the speaker places their respect and what their point of view may be. The lack of capitalization of “i” throughout the entirety of the poem shows the speaker's humility; it implies that they see themselves as less than or insignificant in comparison to God. The capitalization of the entire word “YOU” emphasizes how truly thankful the speaker is for God: even beyond what anyone else may do, in the end it all circles back to God, and for that the speaker is especially thankful for “YOU God”. As the speaker moves through the first stanza, thanking God for the days, the trees, the sky, among everything else, it becomes clear that the speaker's humility is a subtle way of thanking God not just for the creation of it all, but for creating it even though man is below God, God is still providing them with the amazing beauty of the natural world. That, despite it all, God still provides it all — “everything / which is natural which is infinite which is yes” — it does not matter how, or who man is, God is still going to provide, and for that the speaker is forever thankful, so much so that they cannot fully epxress themselves, as seen in the repetition of “which is” complied with the lack of commas, it’s a continous cycle of inifinite thanks, thanks that cannot fit into words, and cannot hold room for breath — becuase they are never-ending.

It is abundantly clear that this is the speaker's redemption, their rebirth after all that was in the past. Line three is the first implication of this within the actual content of the poem, where the speaker expressed “... a blue true dream of sky...”, implying their past incomplete life. The “blue true dream” implies that only now is the speaker fully seeing the color — only now are they opening their eyes to the truth; a truth that one seemed as if it could only exist within a dream. As the speaker moves into the second stanza, their redemption becomes clearer. The parathensis around the entirety of the second stanza shows that in this moment the speaker is no longer speaking to God, but to themself. They’ve begun reflecting on how they’ve changed from who they used to be. They’ve been reborn in the love of God, “( i who have died am alive again today, / and this is the sun’s birthday; this is the birth / day of life and love and wings...” they have “died”, they’ve become separate from who they used to be, and they’ve been renewed. They refer to the day as the “sun’s birthday” because it is bright and inescapable. The speaker's world has been relit; it has become bright as they’ve been reborn in God. Moreover, the line break between “birth / day” implies that this is the speaker's (re)birth, it is the day of life and love and wings, because their acceptence of God has allowed them the eternal life, and love in Heaven after their time has passed — they’ve been saved by God’s grace, and granted “wings” by the angels. The speaker's life has shifted to be joyful, full of life and love that was not there beforehand — they’ve been filled with a kind of fulfillment that can only be granted in salvation.

In the third stanza, the speaker returns to speaking aloud once again. The very first line, once again, highlights their utter thankfulness and glee to God: “how should tasting touching hearing seeing / breathing any —...” We see the lack of commas, the lack of breathing room. The speaker is illuminating how much they’ve been altered; they’re so completely filled with redemption that they do not have time to pause. The speaker feels the need to express it all at that exact moment, because they need everyone who could possibly be listening to know as quickly as possible what they might be missing out on. They need everyone to be saved with God’s grace, just as they were. The speaker’s urgency continues through the remainder of the stanza: “ — lifted from the no / of all nothing — human merely being / doubt unimagineable. You?” Just as we’ve seen throughout the entirety of the poem, the speaker again only uses capitalization when in reference to God — implying that God is the only one worthy of respect. God has lifted the speaker from their past fog, their life that seemed to hold only truth in dreams, that had been nothing, and has rebirthed them with a purpose. God has provided the speaker with so many things that seemed unimaginable beforehand, and through that, the speaker now believes it is unimaginable that any human being could doubt God. God has created the life within the trees, within the air, and within anything that exists — God has given so much, his presence is everywhere — how could one “doubt You?”.

The last stanza is the speaker's closure. They’ve finally found their way to collect all of their thanks into words; to thank God for everything that has been done, and will be done. They are once again speaking to themselves, leaving a message for their past self—and moving on once and for all: “( now the ears of my ears awake and / now the eyes of my eyes are opened )”. The speaker has been made aware in their faith — their ears have been awakened to hear the words of God, the truth that is offered. Their eyes have been opened to see God and to see everything created for its beauty. The speaker can now see and hear everything they’d missed in their faithless past, in their death. In their new life, with awakened ears and opened eyes, they can see and hear what God has to offer — and in their final death, they’ll be able to see and hear everything Heaven has to offer to them.

The core of The Precious Present’s ideology is simply to embrace and live in the present: “Yesterday is history, tomorrow is a mystery, and today is a gift—that’s why they call it the present.” Life doesn’t have any preset meaning; all that means is up to the individual, created by what one chooses to do with their free will. This ideology is presented in the film The Razor's Edge, and by examining the philosophy in relation to the characters, we can determine who becomes enlightened.

Isabel, unfortunately, seems to miss every mark from start to finish of the film. Engaged to Larry before he departed for war, but even then, it lacked a truthful, loving relationship. Their relationship lacked depth, shown when Isabel informs Larry that she has “lived up to [her] side of the bargain,” implying that their engagement is nothing more than a business exchange in her mind. She does not love Larry for who he is, but for what he can potentially offer. From the very start of the film, Isabel is lost entirely in the future of what will be and what will happen, not what is right in front of her. Larry returns from war and postpones their wedding to find “the meaning of life,” and Isabel is — what could be argued to be rightfully so — enraged. However, she’s not upset for herself in the moment, but she’s upset that their future is being “ruined”. Isabel is unable to recognize that what is happening in the present is in the present; she is solely focused on the potential future implications for herself and what she has envisioned. It seems at this moment that Isabel is stuck in the potential of a future; she’s following only her emotions — living only as a visceral man — without taking into account Larry's feelings and journeys, or what he needs to do for himself. Months later, Isabel follows Larry to Paris — staying with her Uncle Elliot — and it seems, at first, that she may have finally pulled herself into the present as she allows herself to stay with Larry, building hope that she’s realized the home is the person. Unfortunately, she leaves in the morning after seeing a cockroach on the pillow. Isabel is shallow; she cannot stay with someone who she doesn’t think can provide her with a “perfect” future, someone who doesn’t view her as “special”. Isabel returns to Chicago and marries Gray — who is extremely wealthy — and begins building her “perfect” future, settling down and having children. Although not even Isabel’s “perfect” future, which is within reach, returns her to the present, it becomes painfully obvious that she is increasingly stuck in the past. Despite being in a relationship and having what appears to be the life she always wanted, she is not over Larry. As they all reunite, it becomes abundantly clear that not only is she not over Larry, but she’s angered by the fact that he is over her. Larry begins helping Sophie, something Isabel had turned away from years prior when Sophie had begged her to stay after her husband and child died. She is disgustingly jealous of the attention Larry is providing Sophie because she is trapped in the past, where she was the one being cared for. She explodes over the concept of Sophie and Larry getting married, insisting she must buy Sophie the dress because she does not believe whatever dress she had in mind would be “good enough” for Larry. Isabel is convinced that Sophie falls short of what Larry deserves, even though this relationship is Larry’s decision. She has Sophie come over to Elliott's house, where she explodes on her, saying that she had sacrificed herself for Larry and implying that Sophie would never be good enough or deserving. She completely ridicules Sophie, before leaving her alone with alcohol — something she was freshly clean from — leading to Sophie's relapse, and ultimately her death. Later, when Larry confronts her about getting Sophie to drink again, she tries to justify herself by saying “I wanted you to see that she would let you down. Because I love you. I just wanted you to be happy. I didn’t want anyone else to hurt you,” and mentioning that she killed his fiancée just as he killed hers. She is still stuck in the past, as Larry was when they were together, no matter how much time has passed. At the end of the film, she asks Larry if she will ever see him again, to which he responds, “You just don’t get it! It doesn’t matter.” Isabel is never going to find the present; she is never going to be content where she is. Her emotions and visions of what could have been consume her and block her path to ever finding enlightenment. She will always be stuck in the past, acting solely off her emotions from those moments, but never learning from them.

Gray and Elliot both seem like background characters. Until one looks into what they are there to represent, they seem incredibly insignificant. Gray has always been in love with Isabel, before they even go off to war. Elliot has always wanted Isabel to come live with him in France and live a luxurious life. They both started off with the mindset that Isabel belonged with them in some sense and that they could make her happy. Gray operates almost entirely in cerebral man; he follows what he knows is the “correct” path. He marries a woman he knows will never love him, has children, and plays his role. He does what he knows is the practical option, never using his free will to its fullest potential for the future. Once his father dies, he pitfalls into the past. Gray becomes bedridden, incredibly depressed, and lifeless. His father's death — one he will not accept as a suicide — led to the company going bankrupt and Gray (and by association, Isabel) losing their money. It appears that Gray knew Isabel was only with him for the possessions, the money, and the “perfect” life, and that once he lost them, he became a shell of a man. He gets stuck in the past of who he was under his father. Gray is unable to understand that he is his own person, even after Larry helps him out of his own mind. Larry uses a form of guided meditation to help Gray see that the power comes from within and that he is in control of who he is and what he allows himself to be defined by. Unfortunately, this moment isn’t groundbreaking for Gray, and he continues to allow himself to be defined by what used to be and what he will be, never questioning who he currently is. He lacks a purpose and the courage to find one; Gray, like Isabel, fails to find enlightenment. Elliot also operates almost entirely in cerebral man, but it seems to be less for practicality, and more for appearances. Elliot yearns to be popular, to be considered somebody important. It’s obvious from the beginning that Elliot defines himself through his money and his social status, two things that are intertwined. He wanted Isabel to grow up with him so she’d have a perfect, wealthy life, not because he believed he’d be the perfect guardian. Like Gray, Elliot has no existence outside of his wealth and how he is viewed by others. Even on his deathbed, his main worry is the fact that he did not receive an invitation to Novimali’s party. He isn’t particularly worried that he is dying, but that those he thought were in his circle did not think the same. It was only through Larry’s lie that Elliot died happy. Elliot lived his life as a lie, and he died in one, never reaching enlightenment. One could argue that he found the present; Elliot died content with what his life was at the very end. However, this contentment was only found via a lie, and the precious present is not something that is given to you, but something that is found in yourself. Elliot failed to find the precious present because he was so entwined in a fabricated life, even in his death. Gray and Elliot both failed to find a truth to live for; they both allowed others to define them and their choices.

Sophie, on the other hand, was extremely close to finding enlightenment and, through that, the precious present. For years after Bob and Mathew — her husband and son — died, she was trapped in the past. It’s clear from her outbursts at the nuns' remark about them “being in a better place” and her begging Isabel to stay with her in the hospital. She was yearning for a friend who no longer existed, for someone who was turning their back on her in real time. As time progresses and Sophie is reintroduced, the extremity of her life is laid out. She has turned to drinking, doing drugs, and selling her body to escape the past. She began acting out and punishing herself to “justify” her pain by becoming someone who could be seen as a bad person. Sophie attempts to push Larry away once they reunite by exclaiming that he doesn’t know where she’s been and what she’s done. She doesn’t want to get better and leave the past, because it’s a comfort to her. She has found comfort in her pain, in operating viscerally, because she’s used it as justification for why her husband and son had to die. Larry, however, refuses to give up on her and continues to aid her. He gets her away from her pimp, helps her get clean, and takes care of her throughout it all. They begin to find comfort in eachother, Sophie tells Larry that he has saved her. Sophie — although it was with Larry's help — chose to leave her past behind and get better. She was healing, leaving the past and finding comfort in what was ongoing: her engagement with Larry. As they announced their engagement to Isabel, Gray, and Elliot, Sophie showed tremendous strength in denying alcohol. Her denial was a key moment in her movement away from the past and towards her heart. She loved Larry and was content in that, content in the present. Unfortunately, the journey is never perfect, and Sophie ultimately lacked the strength to overcome the obstacles. Isabel, believing Sophie was undeserving, attacks her, leaving her incredibly vulnerable. In her vulnerable state, Isabel gets Sophie to drink, firing her back into the past and destroying all the progress Sophie had made. Sophie refuses to go home with Larry, getting extremely drunk. Her body turns up the next morning, ironically, with a slit throat from a razor's edge. Sophie had been walking on the edge, seeking enlightenment and healing, when she slipped, and it killed her. Despite how close she was, Sophie ultimately failed to find enlightenment or acknowledge the present. She died in the past.

Larry, the center of it all, is the one who finds enlightenment. His journey is awfully long, starting right after Peidmont's death in the war. He returns to Chicago and wallows in the past and alcohol — living viscerally — before deciding he needs to leave to find himself and what life is meant to be. He postpones his wedding with Isabel to go to France, where he spends an unbelievable amount of time running from Elliot. He jumps from job to job, trying to find meaning in any of them. He begins to live his life as a cerebral man, contextualising everything and constantly seeking knowledge. He leaves for England, then works in the coal mines before traveling to India and living/working on a boathouse. He asks the boat's owner, “Who does the dishes?” but never receives an answer. Over time, it becomes apparent that the act of washing dishes is, in some form, holy. An act of worship, although not one that appears to have any significant impact on Larry. Although it can be viewed as an implication that each person has a different version of worship. Something holy to this man may not be holy to Larry, and that is why he cannot fully learn from the man — or anyone besides himself. If one wants to find what is holy to them, they must look inside. Larry is sent on a journey with a collection of intellectual books to the top of a mountain, and it is here that he becomes enlightened. He reaches the summit and begins reading, trying to absorb everything offered, but he is freezing. Larry chooses to start a fire with the books to keep himself warm; this is the moment he accepts the precious present. He realizes that trying to absorb knowledge without internalizing it has no current impact; he gains no wisdom from this. He’s simply consuming information that is only substantial short-term, and so he makes the choice here to prioritize his warmth and life over information that will never satiate him. Larry has become whole; he has reached enlightenment. Larry doesn’t let anything ruin him, yet he remains empathetic. He tries to help Sophie, and almost succeeds. He does everything he possibly can to help Isabel before realizing she will never understand and moving on, so he isn’t dragged into the past with her. He drags Gray out of his mind and leaves the knowledge that he has the power within him to do so. He knows Elliot is dying and nothing can be done, so he lies so the man can die happy. Larry does what is most beneficial for the present, helping all he can without losing it. He’s found himself, and in that, he finally returns home to Chicago. He has recognized that there is nothing he can do that he hasn’t already done for Gray and Isabell, because of their refusal to look inwards. He has left them to make their choices, and he has decided to return home, done with the constant traveling, because he knows he can be content no matter what.

All in all, the lesson from the movie seems simple: live in the present. All of their issues were caused by them being stuck in the past: Isabel's past with Larry, Elliot, and Gray's past with what they were defined by, and Sophie's past of the death of her family. If they had been living in the present, appreciating what they had in the moment, the movie could’ve had a happy ending for them all. The words are simple, and the lesson appears to be clear: find and accept the precious present, and you will find enlightenment. Do not take your eyes off what is. “When I see the present, accept the present, and experience the present, I am well, and I am happy. When I feel guilty over my imperfect past, or I am anxious over my uncertain future, I do not live in the present. Then, I experience pain. I make myself Ill, and I am unhappy”. Life is not perfect, and awful things may happen; however, the effect and how long that effect lasts are up to the individual. One is only as impacted as they allow themselves to be, and if one spends their entire life searching for something that was, or may be, contentment will never exist. Living in the present at all times may be incredibly difficult — like walking on a razor's edge— but the caterpillar must suffer. There isn’t a solution to suffering, but it is only temporary. By living in the present, one can move on, shortening how long they suffer. It is one's own choice to step out of the comfort of the past or the concept of the future; it is within one's own abilities to define oneself and act as who they are. Life is about balance: not being so absorbed in oneself that one misses everything around them, but not so absorbed in everyone else that the self is lost. We are what we choose to be.

The heart of the Bible is to treat every person with the same love and compassion, regardless of their beliefs and their life. However, certain people use the words as an excuse for hate– removing the context of the words and separating them from the message of love – separating religion from God; as a result preaching hypocrisy with a plank interfering with their vision. It’s imperative to first focus on ourselves and remove the plank from our own eyes before we dare to attempt to pull the splinters from others. As it says in Matthew 7:4, “How can you say to your brother, ‘Let me take the speck out of your eye,’ when all the time there is a plank in your own eye?” (NIV, Matthew 7:4) . In order to promote the shift to others, we must first work on ourselves, we have to remove our own plank before we worry about another’s splinter.

Although Christianity has come a long way in terms of becoming accepting and compassionate, there is still a large area of hate being perpetrated; there are still communities built upon hypocrisy and hate. We know in the past that the majority of denominations taught that Jesus’s crucifixion was on the Jews shoulders, and that the belief of supersession– that Jews no longer had a place and were superseded by Christians– was pushed. These beliefs began dying down after the Holocaust; however over a fourth of Christians still believe in supersession (Motti). Antisemitism/Anti-Judaism is still unfortunately rooted in some churches' preachings. I grew up attending bible camps and schools over summer breaks, and multiple times during these we were taught that Jewish people were – in simple terms – evil. We were told in no uncertain terms that they were the worst. Even worse, they weren’t the only group of people I remember being taught to hate. We were told that all and every Muslim was a terrorist, that any other religion was a gateway to hell, and if we dared to interact with them we’d follow them down. We were lectured one year at camp for almost two hours solely on how LGBTQ+ people are satanic, and needed to convert and beg for forgiveness. We were taught against the Bible, and against God’s teachings, with the Bible. 1 John 2:11 expresses just how important it is to love and not to hate, “But whoever hates his brother is in the darkness and walks in the darkness, and does not know where he is going, because the darkness has blinded his eyes” (NIV, 1 John 2:11). It doesn’t matter the differences, they’re still loved by God; they’re still his children. Seeing words taken out of context and bent to preach hate is nauseating, it’s a removal of God and his love from religion. Their hate is the plank blinding them; interfering with their vision while they attempt to preach the wrongs of others. Regardless of circumstances, we are not the ones to judge; it is not our job, we are no better. Hate is blinding, it’s nothing more than a handicap, and a preventable one.

The hateful messages unfortunately still preached aren’t a representation of God, but a representation of religious echo chambers. They aren’t preaching his messages, but using them to excuse their own hatred; they’re holding onto the plank in their eye with everything in their soul embedding it further into their own mind. They’re making an exclusive religion that isn’t reflective of God and his love. God loves all, and Stricker writes in her poem ‘The Thin Line’, “Heaven isn’t a gated community / Silver is covered with mud / Mud is covered with silver” (Stricker). Heaven is inclusive to all followers, sins and all. We’re all created in the image of God, and we’re all his children. We’re the mud and he’s the silver covering us and shining his love down unto us. Heaven is just as inclusive as God. Blindly following religion without searching God out on ones own is only locking that plank into one's eye. As Gigi Perez writes in her song ‘Fable’ , “Love was the law and religion was taught / understand, I look for the truth in the back of your hand, and I look into the open sky” (Perez), love is the law, love is what’s inherent. Hatred isn’t born, but taught. Religion is a collaboration of different interpretations of the Bible and the preaching of that specific way. It’s not always the truth of the words, and it’s especially not when it’s used as a shield for hate. Religion is nothing more than hypocrisy when it’s used to separate its followers from God; , but rather as a weapon for hate. When it’s used by those blinded by their own planks, to attack the splinters of others, to go after their differences while mutilating the true message of the Bible, and of God.

Making this shift is imperative to bring God back into religion, to bring love and compassion back. Removing the plank of our own eyes is the first step to remove the splinters in others. Splinters that those with planks in their eyes think are differences, but splinters that are truly just hate. If we remove our own hate, our own plank, we can remove others' splinters, their hate. Matthew 7:5, “You hypocrite, first take the plank out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to remove the speck from your brother’s eye” (NIV, Matthew 7:5)

The Constitution lays out what any given person is entitled to, the First Amendment states “Congress shall make no law… abridging the freedom of speech…”, the Constitution implies that the freedom of speech is to be protected in full, and prohibited in no circumstances. Despite free speech being an outlined right, it’s being continuously violated over and over again, and artistic expression seems to be facing the worst of these unconstitutional censorships. The censorship of art, regardless of how “controversial” the art may be, is unconstitutional; it’s an issue in need of immediate solvency. It’s important to take a step now rather than never, the allowance of constitutional violations is nauseating.

Art censorship has been an issue for years, often times when a piece of art is deemed “offensive” or “controversial”, it’s taken down and/or censored. The meaning of the piece is overlooked, and the artist's freedom of speech and expression is violated. In 2014 the University of Iowa attempted to take down a piece of art depicting a figure in a Ku Klux Klan robe, and hood made out of newspaper clippings filled with stories and images of racial violence. The work was for the rising Black Lives Matter protests, and held a deep meaning to bring awareness to ongoing issues with racial violence, despite all this piece stood for and advocated for, it was removed for being controversial and potentially offensive. In 2016 a similar artistic piece was censored for similar reasons. A student, Harley, created a piece that depicted KKK members and arrested Jews from WWII. Harley created this piece to draw parallels from these horrific historical events to what was at the time an ongoing campaign rhetoric and to bring more awareness to the effortful oppression of minority groups. Harley's work was censored for the same reasons as the piece in 2014, it was too controversial. In 2017 an exhibit to bring awareness to sexual assault was removed for being “offensive” due to the quotes the exhibit displayed, quotes from the women who had been assaulted. (FIRE) Another idea was rejected in 2017 for being controversial. Scott’s proposal for a billboard displaying names of those who’d be unjustifiably killed due to police brutality, was rejected just like all of the others; his idea too controversial. (Meckseper) Unfortunately, these are not lone examples, and this unconstitutional censorship of art has not gotten reduced in the years since these incidents. In recent years with the Palestine/Israel conflict and the activism that has followed, it seems this censorship has only worsened. Hundreds of artists are unjustly, and unconstitutionally silenced. Since October of last year many projects and exhibits have been shut down or denied due to either the piece depicting a controversial opinion regarding the conflict, or even just the artist holding a controversial opinion. The National Coalition Against Censorship has provided examples of numerous examples of this, examples that seem never ending. The Palestinian artist Manna was excluded from a panel, another Palestinian artist had their career retrospective canceled, showings of the movie “Israelism” were canceled due to its controversial criticals of Zionist policies, and numerous more artists have had pieces removed, cancelled or censored due to controversial depictions (Walsh). One specific instance occurred in Vail, Colorado. SeeWalker, the artist intended to be Vail’s resident artist, had her invitation rescinded due to an unrelated piece of art, “G is for Genocide”, posted on her Instagram. She was disinvited to vail due to her art holding opinions too controversial for the city’s liking (Walsh). These artists are being censored and silenced, unconstitutionally, and have been for years too long. This is unjust, and needs to be solved. Silencing artists holds no benefits, it harbors only negatives, it removes the rights entitled to individuals in the Bill of Rights.

Many find themselves asking, “Why fix what’s not broken? Art has been censored for years.” Why change the status quo when it’s been that way so long? The simple answer to this is that, well, it’s unconstitutional. Individuals are entitled to free speech, they’re entitled to expression, and art is one of the many ways individuals decide to express themselves. Art reflects values, and values reflect a person, and large enough values reflect a society. Proponents oftentimes argue that “Art should be censored to align with the changing values of the world” (Cox). However, there is a clear key issue here: art changes values. The values of the world are dependent on the people's values, they change regarding issues, they change regarding trends. Art is a form of activism, and this activism is what shines light on modern issues many consider over; it brings awareness. This enlightenment is what causes people to open their eyes and realize they’re harboring outdated values. Art isn’t the only form of activism, but it is one of the most prevalent, and with the increasing censorship of controversial art, they’re effectively silenced, and issues remain unknown. This unjust censorship has continued for much too long, and it’s better late than never to fix an issue. Times change, and values change, yes, but art often acts as a catalyst for these changes and censoring it allows for the harboring of outdated values, which, in turn, leads to an outdated country and citizens unaware of the issues next door. This artistic suppression leads to conformity, it limits diversity and narrows what’s ‘acceptable’. It deprives society of perspectives and commentary that tends to be critical of ongoing issues (Sabti). Change is better late than never, violating individuals constitutional rights under the fact that it’s been that way for years is only set to perpetuate the already protruding problems.

So, what is the solvency here? Truthfully, this sounds like such a mundane issue that to answer this question you could just respond: “Stop censoring art. Just let projects run their life”, and whilst this would be ideal, it’s wishful thinking. Solvency, unfortunately, must start small, especially with censorship increasing as global conflicts worsen, and art gets more political. In order to start halting this unjust, unconstitutional, and silencing censorship, there must be open minds. Individuals have to be prepared to see controversial artwork depicting views opposing their own. Art is an immensely powerful medium for bringing light to the darker sides of society (Sobti). Censoring controversial art does nothing but suppress and silence these voices. To solve this not only do people need to go out and readily acknowledge opposing beliefs, but Congress needs to advocate for artists rights to expression, rights outlined to every person in the Constitution. The Senate needs to complete their parts in upholding the Constitution. It is, in part, on these members to ensure no one is being treated as less than, and the continuous censorship of artists is treating them as less then. Small steps being taken is essential to solve this and ensure every individual is able to express themselves and their art as they so are entitled to. No person's view trumps others, and no one should be silenced for having different views that are controversial. The very start of the Constitution states that, “We hold these truths to be self-evident, every man is created equal…”, regardless of the depiction of the art, the artist is equal to those attempting to silence and censor them. Standing by and allowing these individuals to have their First Amendment rights violated is ill, it does not matter the differing views, or how controversial the art may seem, it is that artists have the right to express themselves. The Constitution and the rights outlined in it need to be upheld as intended.

“Aristotle believed that true fulfillment comes not from self-indulgence, but from a life of virtue. When young people serve not for recognition but for the joy of contributing, they experience what Aristotle called ‘eudaimonia’—a deep, lasting fulfillment. Service, then, is not just a duty; it is a path to a richer, more meaningful life.” It holds a purpose.

The majority of the time when we speak of service our focal point is charity acts, but a “We-Serve” mindset isn’t about isolated acts of charity, but about fostering a deep-rooted sense of responsibility toward others, & recognizing that our actions, no matter how small they may be, have the power to uplift an entire community, inclusive of ourselves. A “we-serve” mindset is the change of “me” to “we”. A "we-Serve" mindset is a way of thinking that prioritizes collective well-being over individual gain. It’s the belief that serving others isn’t just an occasional act of charity but a fundamental responsibility that benefits both the individual and their community.

Establishing a “we-serve” mindset requires the shift from apathy towards empathy; the shift from extrinsic motivation towards intrinsic motivation. For individuals to truly develop a mindset, they have to believe in what it stands for. To harbor a “we-serve” mindset, they must truly believe, and want to serve for others, and in relation, themselves: ourselves. So, what role can we play to help young people develop a we-serve mindset in today's world? Especially when, in today's world, it’s individual gain that’s prioritized.

To truly foster this “We-Serve” mindset, we must first help increase empathy, by addressing the absolute lack of it within the youth. When deciding to do something people tend to have the first thought of “What’s in it for me? What do I gain?”, they harbor the belief that service is a sacrifice, rather than a catalyst for a sense purpose. Too often service is approached with a savior mindset, people begin thinking that “ ’I'm doing this to help people who need me.’ ‘I have to save them.’ ‘I have to pity them.’ – all because they’re below me ”. The meaning of service falls wayside, and with that goes the mindset. We have a role, an obligation to halt this thinking & this complex. Service isn’t about pity, or superiority, but community. The African philosophy of Ubuntu teaches that "I am because we are” – Ubuntu is rooted in a relational form of personhood, basically meaning that you are because of others; it is about coming together and building a consensus around what affects the community. It teaches that service is not an individual act of charity but a communal responsibility, one that nurtures both the giver and the receiver. Ubuntu teaches that when we serve others, we are not doing so out of superiority, but out of mutual respect. Every act of kindness reinforces our shared humanity. At its core, a “we-serve” mindset is Ubuntu in action. It is the recognition that no one thrives alone, that our success is measured by the well-being of our very own communities, and that service is not just about the service but it is about growth, and connectivity, and becoming more human together.

"I am because we are." , which can lead from “What will I gain?” to “What will we gain?” Once young people understand that serving others is not just about helping the needy but about building a better world for all—including themselves—they begin to see service not as a sacrifice, but as a source of purpose. Which is step one in developing a “we-serve” mindset.

The second step to developing this mindset within the youth is by shifting their reasons of service, getting them to understand that service isn’t a burden, or a sacrifice. It’s shifting from extrinsic motivation to intrinsic motivation, towards serving for personal fulfillment. We have to inspire young people to WANT to serve, so that their service is sustainable. We have to make them see that service is much, much more than another box on their checklist for a college application, because if they only view service as an obligation, they can never truly harbor a “we-serve” mindset. We have a role to assist those younger than us to find what drives them – whether that be the environment, or justice –, to help them find their connection within service so that they can begin to see service as something that enriches their own lives just as much as it may enrich the lives of others. We have to help them understand that service towards others is service for all, including themselves. That service isn’t just another stepping stone to appear a better person – we have a role to help them understand that service is also for them. When they can connect with the causes that speak to their hearts, when they can feel that personal connection, they’re capable of making the shift from sacrifice to fulfillment. They can start WANTING to serve, without hesitating on the question of “What do I gain?”, because they’ll know they’re gaining within a community, and they’ll know this due to the spark of a “we-serve” mindset.

But, most importantly of all – to fully play our role – we have to show them with more than our spoken words. Helping the youth develop this mindset our role isn’t just teaching and lecturing them on how to do so, but showing them with our very own actions. We have to step into the role of a leader, and lead them by example. We have to look upon the youth and recognize they’re looking at us for what to do – we have to show them how we serve for ourselves, and others – we have to reflect our own “we-serve” mindset, in order to help those younger develop theirs.

So, when considering what role can we play to help young people develop a we-serve mindset in today's world, we have to complete three crucial steps:
We first have to shift their first thoughts from “What will I gain?” to “What will we gain?”, helping them understand that service is inclusive for all, it’s benefiting them just as much as it’s benefiting those that they’re serving. There is no hierarchy in service, everyone is playing an equal part. Allowing them & helping them to remain informed of all cultures so they have the ability to connect with those they serve, or serving alongside. Forcing them to ask what they’ve learned after each moment. Secondly, we have to shift their reasons for service away from obligation towards self fulfillment, we have to help them want to serve by helping them discover their own purpose; helping them find service in those areas. We can create youth-led initiatives into service, allowing them to start and run programs or complete tasks off of their own interests to maintain sustainability with their mindsets. Finally, we have to demonstrate our own “we-serve” mindsets, our actions are stronger than our words. We can set up mentorship programs where we step up in that leadership role and teach by example: We have to be the example they look up to and mold themselves off of, and only then can we say we’ve done our part.