Examples Of Dialectical Journal For The Great Gatsby

Chapter X

I’ve never been ashamed of who I am until the summer of 1932. My experiences that summer turned me into a delicate china doll which Fate smashed into a tiny little fragments. I was drowning in darkness and no one could throw out a life preserver to save me. The one thing that gave me comfort was the Gatsby’s green light blinking in a world of misery and ash.

For a while, after the death of Gatsby, life was satisfyingly normal. I was merry again; however, fate had a different plan for me. The stock market plunged into oblivion, my wife perished from scarlet fever, and I was left all alone. I was a shadow aimlessly floating around Manhattan's crowded city blocks. Nothing, except for the delicious taste of alcohol,

” She said this in such a stern tone which drew me back. Years prior she appeared to not care for her child or her manners, but now, she did.

“Hello, I'm Pammy.” Her voice was a perfect reproduction of Daisy’s merely a little hoarser. From out behind Daisy emerged a stealthy little figure.

“Nick, this is Thomas.” Daisy tone shifted and a hesitation was present in her voice before she introduced him.

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Thomas.” He had a recognizable face. I pondered to myself where had I seen him before. He had dazzling green eyes which looked like glass marbles, handsome brown hair, and a gorgeous smile. It hit me like to boats hitting each other, catastrophic and damaging. It was the face of the late Jay Gatsby.

Thomas had the same facial expression Gatsby had at the first party I attended. He peered at me, just like his father. It was as though I was the sole spirit on East 51st Street. I examined him trying to locate any part different from Gatsby, but it was a lost cause. I tried to resist the charm of his smile and the promise his eyes possessed, but they dragged me in and was hypnotized. His youthful green eyes and gorgeous smile expressed a glimpse of hope and promise for the future. He was a young boy surrounded by grandeur of “old” money, yet he did not seem affected by it. That is what made him gorgeous. He was like the moon on a sunny day, always lingering in the background, absorbing everything, and dreaming

As Daisy, Pammy, and Thomas stomped on, I tried to chase after them. I wanted to know Thomas and I wanted to ask Daisy something. Would she had changed her choice had she known about Thomas and what Tom was going to do?

A cloud of exhaust prevented me from reaching them. My eyes began to water and I violently coughed as the smoke from the exhaust pipe washed over me. My dream of knowing the answer to that question died that hot summer day. Part of me was happy I never saw them again because I blamed Daisy and Tom for what happened to Gatsby. I blamed them for what happened to me. They ran over Gatsby’s dream and warped my faith in humanity and in myself. I am ashamed of who I have become, because I am nothing more than an alcoholic who cannot go more than one day without the taste of bourbon slowly burning down my