It’s All Over Now, Baby Blue

     I switched on Bob Dylan (he always makes me kind of sad) and started to read the story "Where Are You Going, Where Have You Been?" by Joyce Carol Oates. From the third page I knew I didn't want to read it anymore. Something about it made my heart leap. Something was wrong, and it was approaching very fast, scary and thrilling. I felt it inside, while my heartbeat was speeding up.

     Connie, who was so certain of her beauty, so obsessed with being adored and catching men's attention, so eager to run away from being a careless, lighthearted child, acturally reminded me of a lamb, vulnerable and lost. And I can't blame her taking into account the age, and the revolutionary fulminant times the world was going through. One can't expect a teenage girl to be considerate and wise. But still sometimes I wanted to yell, "Hey, Connie, don't you see it's a trap?!"

     As for Arnold, he was disgusting and repellent for me from the very moment he appeared in the story. He was fake and vulgar, and the only thing he instilled in me was distrust and the desire to run away as soon as possible.
     Till the end I pictured Connie figuring something out, running away, calling for help, tricking him and saving herself from inevitable disaster. But instead her thirst for being an adult, for becoming an attractive, sexual woman, her conviction for being someone she was not tricked her. And even when her inner child cried for help and she called for her mother, it was too late. She had lost herself. And as Bob Dylan sang, "It's all over now, baby blue".