a while ago, i read the metamorphosis for a school project. a book club. it was interesting, and i thought i understood it.
i feel like i understand it more now.
you wake up one day in october and discover that people who you have worked for, people you have sacrificed for, have decided you are an Ungeziefer.
(people translate that as bug, because they don't want to acknowledge you. but that's not what it means. it means vermin.)
and you're still you, but people won't see that. they avoid you. they talk about you as though you're not there.
they injure you, they hurt you.
they were once your family, you considered them your family, but apparently you were to be discarded the moment you ceased to be of use to them, the moment you ceased to be someone other people would like.
eventually, once it becomes clear that you are Not Like Them and will stay Not Like Them, you will not cease being Not Like Them and become Good and Like Them again, once it is clear that you are a social and financial liability, they decide you are worthless to them. they make it clear that you are no longer really you, but vermin. that you do not deserve to live. that really, it would be better if you just died.
when you die, they do not mourn you. they go on the train and are happy. they are free from the burden of pretending to care about you.
they talk about marriage. one of the people, the one who helped convince the others that you are no longer worthy of life, has fine marriage prospects.
after all, who cares what she does to you? what she thinks of you? (if she thinks of you anymore, that is.) you're an Ungeziefer. you're just vermin.