The “New” Myth of Sisyphus Rolling it up at a leisurely pace he bears the rock on his firm right shoulder. Saline sweat covers an immortal face brushing against the rough and tough boulder. Once in a while, Sisyphus takes his rest and looks back down the mountain’s fine incline eyeing yesterday’s footprints, and depressed impact craters from his previous grinds. O! How he has lost track of endless time! His hands now numbed greatly from calluses his arms strong enough to build palaces. Long gone were hopes of a successful climb. But his heart now burns with grand contentment no longer filled with scorn and resentment. For he wasn’t bound forever in chains to be pecked and healed, again, pecked and healed! Nor was he forever starved of a meal a scrawny skeleton that slowly wanes! How could he not accept his work with zeal?
BY BAO DUONG ‘23 Thus, he pushes the rock again today. like a robot, he machines ceaselessly fully zoning in, not swaying away. He chases an unknown goal ruthlessly. THUMP! Without any progress checks and limits he had surged onwards with intense vigor and now weight lifts from his burdened figure as it settles on a sunken summit. Yet, feeling not even a little glad silent Sisyphus stands startlingly sad listening to the weak wind whistling by. For the gods have seen the comfort he had punishing with boredom to drive him mad. Thus, perhaps to his punishers he cries: “Behold! Here is a man without purpose! No doubt the biggest clown in the circus!”
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