Then one day, suddenly, it ends, it changes, I don't understand, it dies, or it's me, I don't understand that either. I ask the words that remain sleeping, waking, morning, evening. They have nothing to say.
This excerpt from Samuel Beckett's "Endgame" captures the suddenness and bewilderment of change and loss. The speaker reflects on a moment when something significant concludes, leading to confusion and a sense of incomprehension about the nature of existence. The uncertainty of what it means to face such changes weighs heavily on them, causing deep introspection.
Additionally, the speaker seeks answers from the words that persist in their life. However, the words—representing time and routine—offer no clarity or comfort. This interaction emphasizes the struggle to find meaning in experiences of transformation and the silent void that often accompanies them.
