Comfort Zone

While reading Huck Finn this week, I came across a fascinating passage. Huck, afraid of being found, refuses to move a muscle; even when he has and itch, he "dasn't scratch it". This feat of strength lead me to conclude that Huck has no desire to conform to society's standards. Instead of a wild animal to be tamed, he is a strangled pet to be unleashed. Otherwise he will never find happiness. He can't stand being confined to his "good" clothes; therefore, he "got into his old rags, and was free and satisfied" Everyone has they're own comfort zone. Why should they be told how to live. Do what suits you; who cares what others think.