太多的未知
太多的變數
太多的不安
太多的害怕

沒有自信
沒有勇氣
沒有能力

To be or not to be, that is the question.

悲劇起自選擇之艱難,而沒有超越不成悲劇。

面對還是逃避?
勇敢還是怯懦?
死亡還是繼續活著?

死亡是容易的,活著是痛苦的。

死亡是終結肉身痛苦的方式之一,活著卻要面對人生各種無窮盡的矛盾與痛苦,時時面對艱難抉擇的考驗。

但是,死亡終結了痛苦,亦同時終結了快樂與幸福的可能性。

悲觀主義者信奉著痛苦是生命的本質。
但是身為悲觀主義者的我,在行為上卻仍要奮戰不懈的追求幸福,
因為我信奉的幸福觀是起自於悲劇的超越。
意即,純然簡單的快樂固然有,有如動物般因為食物而歡愉,
我肯定這種幸福,我也要追求這些。
但身而為人,絕不止這些,更為崇高與深沉的,
則是起自於痛苦的克服。
或者說,一旦意識到自己之於這個世界的存在性,
簡單的快樂就再也不能滿足這個憂傷的靈魂,
這是身為真正的「人」無可逃脫的命運。

To be or not to be

如果我逃避這個自我,我只有兩條路,
一是自暴自棄,二是死亡,
前者雖生猶死。

但是回想過往的幸福時刻,強烈的感受充滿了全身,
使我決難承認痛苦是唯一的答案,
而且若非這樣的我
是不會擁有那晚南寮海堤上的美麗星空的
我是極度悲觀之後誕生的樂觀主義者。

哈姆雷特對死亡之後的世界全無所知,
故而無從知道選擇死亡是否真為解脫。

「死亡扼殺了所有可能性」。
這樣一條陳述句,是我最重要的信仰基石,
使我逼迫自己,再怎麼樣痛苦,又怎麼樣造成他人的痛苦,
都要鼓起勇氣,決不放棄。

也許最終的死亡不是自殺,
而是將自己燒到油盡燈枯,力竭而死。
那樣的自己,也至少維持了選擇並且奉行之,
而仍是場超越的悲劇吧。

跳過本體論的爭端,
確實存在物外的神,或者內心誕生的神,
我都要向祂誠心祈禱,
為妳,
為我,
為這場愛情,
賜與我們勇氣克服一切。

賜予我勇氣,堅持自己的信念,
堅持自己的決定,
決不退縮,
義無反顧,
我痛徹心肺,也真心誠摯的祈禱著

----
Hamlet:
"To be, or not to be: that is the question:
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,
And by opposing end them? To die: to sleep;
No more; and by a sleep to say we end
The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks
That flesh is heir to, 'tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wish'd. To die, to sleep;
To sleep: perchance to dream: ay, there's the rub;
For in that sleep of death what dreams may come
When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,
Must give us pause: there's the respect
That makes calamity of so long life;
For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,
The oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely,
The pangs of despised love, the law's delay,
The insolence of office and the spurns
That patient merit of the unworthy takes,
When he himself might his quietus make
With a bare bodkin? who would fardels bear,
To grunt and sweat under a weary life,
But that the dread of something after death,
The undiscover'd country from whose bourn
No traveller returns, puzzles the will
And makes us rather bear those ills we have
Than fly to others that we know not of?
Thus conscience does make cowards of us all;
And thus the native hue of resolution
Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought,
And enterprises of great pitch and moment
With this regard their currents turn awry,
And lose the name of action.--Soft you now!
The fair Ophelia! Nymph, in thy orisons
Be all my sins remember'd".

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