God?

 “Vladimir: This is becoming really insignificant.
   Estragon: Not enough.” (pg. 76)

What happens when every day seems to blur together, and suddenly you can’t really find the difference between yesterday and today? Even though I have never been as frustrated as the two main characters in Waiting for Godot, I have come to realize that most things we do on a daily basis aren’t significant at all. Furthermore, we constantly seem to be working towards monotony, making everything even less significant than it already was. Just as the two main characters in the play, I have wondered at the reason why we keep working the way we do. It reminds me of the Myth of Sisyphus, and how we strive to do the same thing every day without fail.

Why do we continue working towards nothing? Every day seems to be a repetition of the quotation above, in which we realize that nothing matters, yet we do it. Apparently, it still matters too much.

 The fact that these two men, Vladimir and Estragon, are waiting for Godot is very relevant in the long run of the text. Not only because it dictates the reason that they are still in the same place, but because of what this “Godot” symbolizes. God. Is there really such a thing as a powerful being guiding us through life, or are we just like Estragon and Vladimir, who wait incessantly for him even though he never shows?

“Estragon: And if we dropped him? (Pause.) If we dropped him?
  Vladimir: He’d punish us.” (pg. 107)

Are we really that hopeless? Are we really so insecure in what we are that we wait every single day for a figure which never shows itself in our life? Some say that God is the reason why some people have so much more than others, that this is why we should be thankful. I am thankful, every single day I realize how lucky I have been. But if this is an act of God, why are other people in such bad conditions? If there was a God, wouldn’t people like Estragon and Vladimir, poor and homeless, be better off?

In the end, this book symbolizes the emptiness of every man’s life, and it ridicules our ceaseless search for meaning. It stresses the fact that God has never shown itself and never will. Overall, it could be argued that this book is simply depressing.

 For some reason, I just think it’s realistic.