In search of destiny

Seems, madam! nay it is; I know not 'seems.'
The gap is still unbridgeabale. The gap between what seems and what is, is yet to be bridged. The shadow still falls between the idea and reality. But it is the shadow I am interested in, not the idea and definitely not in the reality.
When Sam pleaded to Him to go for as long drive and get drunk, He refused. He remained seated to his cross, smoking and drinking, and feeling the pain. There were options and ways for him to move on, to relieve himself of the wrenching inside, but He stayed put. For more pain.
Pain has a nice but dangerous quality. It makes one addicted to it. One misses it, when one doesn't feel it. What is it that makes pain so attractive, so alluring?
Isn't it for the pain that Hamlet returned to Denmark? To savour it more and more and even more till everything gets over?
Else, how could he be so resigned. "A little more than kin, and less than kind," were his first words, pithy, simmering with caustic sarcasm. Life held nothing interesting for him anymore. Nothing to look forward to. Just going through the motions, till a sword made a hole in his heart.
Was Hamlet really alive when he reached Denmark? Or was it his shadow, his apparition. Wasn't he already dead? Isn't the death of all hopes and desires, the actual death. The body was living but the soul was long dead. "But I have that within which passeth show."
What is within that passeth show? Even in Biday Abhishap (Tagore), Kach said, "aar jaha bohe bokkhomajhe roktomoy, bahire ta kemone prokashibo." (something in these lines).
Isnt it exactly the same erosion of life that these guys are talking about? It is. still they carried on till destiny snuffed the movement out of their limbs. Knowing that death ends all, they still went forward to it, to embrace it as if, death is their best friend.
Well, Rick was an exception. He didn't really had to embrace death. He walked away to anonymity.
To Brazzaville or some god-forsaken place. In search of what else but death.