What happens to this sickness of guilt when one passes over? Where go the pangs of conscience that have haunted us in life, the lingering sting of our regrets? Do these things dissipate with our last breath or are they the brick and mortar of the afterlife, are these the substance of the private hell that we may each inherit? There are those that say that the function of guilt and shame is survival, the collective wisdom of the clan passing from generation to generation. But, in truth, the moral manipulations that shame facilitates are more about tradition and control then collective protection. And as such, on wonders what longetivity such things really have. Mere human inventions, how could they chase us beyond the grave?
"This journal is not a mere literary diversion. The further I progress, reducing to order what my past life suggests, and the more I persist in the rigor of composition--of the chapters, of the sentences, of the book itself--the more do I feel myself hardening in my will to utilize, for virtuous ends, my former hardships. I feel their power." --Jean Genet
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