Fig
"The Bell Jar" 'I saw my life branching out before me like a green fig-tree. From the tree of every branch, a wonderful future beckoned and winked. One fig was a husband and a happy home of children, and another fig was a famous poet, and another another fig was a brilliant professor. And beyond and above these figs was many more figs I can't quite make out. I saw myself sitting in the crotch of this fig-tree, starving myself to death, just because I couldn't make up my mind on which of the fig I would choose. I wanted each and every one of them, but choosing one means losing all the rest. And as I sat there, unable to decide, the figs began to wrinkle and go black, and, one by one, they plopped to the ground at my feet.' The paradox of choices. The unknown of what each fig beholds in the future, afraid of making the wrong choice. 'What if that one is better?' Being privileged enough to even have choices, to be able to doubt over things some may not ev...