A Grey Day with Little Grey

"The art of chess, The art is knowing when a piece is most valuable, and then in that very moment, being willing to sacrifice it. For in the vacuum created by the loss of what is most precious, opportunity abounds, influence is maximized, desires became destiny. "--FROM FRINGE

 

That would be propriate enough to explain lexie grey's tragic exit in the finale of Grey's Anatomy. The writer is excrutiating pain in the arse with indeniably talented foresight. An insightful creator knows exactly what he's doing. By killing the most sweet and innocent creation of his, he maximizes the impact of the loss, the overwhelming loss that haunts us for days, weeks or years even, leaving us only the knowledge of A solid vaccum that promises no more such sweet and innocent subject we once knew and fell in love with in the future, the very knowledge of which left us no choice but to seek memories backwards, feeding desires with ashes of the past, thus desires became destiny.

 

So we know what destiny is. It's backward going, over and over again. A refusing to let go following by a shock of grief, namely the first stage of grief. Man should be an over-goer, down going, forward-going and never looking back. Forsake past desires to surpass our own destiny. That's what super-man should do, however, we are just men. Unfortunitly for most of us, grief is a merciless master, just when we think we are free, we realize we never stood a chance.

 

For Man is born out of grief, with grief he grows, the childhood is a complete denial of extra-ego; the youth fueled by confusing anger, then comes the heroic bargaining against life in his prime years, followed by the depression of the middle ages, and ultimately fold in acceptance whatever life is in the end. It's pretty sad being human, to put like that. For our creator, like any great fiction writers in real life, is a sadist. No matter how sweet and innocent his leading characters are, he makes awful things happen to them in order that the jianlimoban.c321.cn reader may see what they are made of.

 

There's always a good reason for sacrifice, for man's tragidy. YOU DIES BECAUSE YOU ARE WORTHY ENOUGH FOR DYING. In other words, man should earn its way to die this way, the world shatters after your departure, tears shed, you'll be missed, you'll enter the vacuum and be the very definition of human destiny. Being a choisen subject of big sacrifice therefore, is really sth to be humbled by and honored for. It's the ultimate proof of your worthness, worthness for the good ones, the loved ones, the most desired ones.

 

So we say goodbye to Lexie, and so we grieve with mark, meridith, and derik, for loss of the love, sibling, and pupil; we deny, frustrate, bargain, and get depressed along with them, and then finally, we accept, the way writers intended us to be. And along the way, we learn to appreciate effect of the tragidy, in back flash, we trace the cause of it. It is in these that we see what we are made of, --oh, don't say what it is, or who it is,-- as we are.