You might hide in some Freudian jungle most of your miserable life, baying at the moon and shouting curses at God, but at the end, right down there at the damned end when it counts... you would sure as anything clear up just enough to realize the moon you have spent so many years baying at is nothing but the light globe up there on the ceiling, and God is just something placed in your bureau drawer by the Gideon Society. Yes, I sighed again, in the long run insanity would be the same old coldhearted drag of too solid flesh, too many slings and arrows, and too much outrageous fortune.
This excerpt reflects a profound disillusionment with the struggles of life, suggesting that one may spend years in turmoil, resentful and consumed by existential questions. The imagery of a "Freudian jungle" and "baying at the moon" emphasizes the confusion and chaos of seeking meaning, only to realize later that these pursuits may be based on illusions. The comparison of God to a mundane object reveals a crushing realization about faith and existence.
The final thoughts encapsulate a sense of inevitability regarding human suffering. The phrase "too solid flesh" implies the burdens of reality, while "slings and arrows" signifies the hardships and trials one faces. Ultimately, the author conveys that despite the tumultuous journey, life often boils down to enduring simple, harsh truths, presenting a somber view on the human condition and the quest for significance.
