Voldemort *shudder* was an evil man. For those of you who haven't read all of Ms. Rowling's insanely popular books, please be forewarned that I am about to reveal some aspects. In short, this is your obligatory spoiler alert. Also, if you haven't read them, please know that I am unsure as to how to judge you. Are you resistant to the insanely popular phenomena? Or are you a bit on the ignorant side? Or do you just not care? Fair enough.
In the series, You-Know-Who, the quintessential antagonist, takes various steps to secure the most secular of desires: immortality. While he should have been dead, he was still a part of the world. In addition to his unicorn blood diet (less calories?), Ol' Voldy took his soul and split it into 7 pieces. He then attached these soul parts to various objects, both living and nonliving. It is in this way that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named ensured his survival, albeit oftentimes a measly one. The combination of his soul and the object is called a Horcrux. Normally, even making one Horcrux in which to place your soul is a daunting and harrowing task, and in Salazar Slytherin's last descendant's case, usually someone had to die. Even if the physical body of the person is destroyed, the person will still live as long as the Horcrux is not destroyed.
In this way, I have found that I am somewhat similar to the Dark Lord. I spill little secrets here and there to one friend or another, but I don't think I've told everything to one person. I just don't think there's anyone in my life who is around me often enough for that to happen.
In a sense, I am a secrets slut. I give a little bit of my personal thoughts to a lot of people, but I have yet to unload all my emotional baggage to one person. And it is in these thoughts, these emotionally charged tidbits of information, where I suppose my identity resides. I am a prostitute for secrets and all to often, arbitrarily so. While I can attribute some of it to my incessant ramblings, there is still some part of me that knows that I am reserved and candid all at once.
I am candid in that I am willing to give someone personal details about my past, but I am reserved in how much I give one person. And make no mistake, it is our past and our experiences that make up the most important parts of who we are. It is the foundation, the basis, of our identity.
And, interestingly, like Tom Riddle's segmented soul, I have divided myself, or at least the most important part of myself: my identity, my core, my crux.
1 comment:
why is seeking immortality the most secular of desires? isn't that what us religious folk are striving for as well?
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