Wednesday, October 29, 2008

I'm Really Frustrated With My Shakespeare Class Because They WON'T Comment on My Soliloquy

So I'm posting it on here, dang it! I have to write a soliloquy from Shakespeare's point of view, and my idea is that he didn't write a large majority of his plays. He's reflecting upon the hour of his death, and this is what's running through his mind (this is only the opening--I haven't written the other four segments yet).


How now? Are my days curs'd to end as such?
T'would be well deserv'd, i'faith. Night pulls th'veil
O'Nyx 'cross my frail eyes; surely day's gone.
O! That I could sink i't'the Khaos from which I sprung,
Or else fly t'Aether on silken clouds; No-
I am Pontius, curs'd t'wash my bloodied hands
Which do reek o'th'carnage of life's o'erthrows.
Aye, what suff'ring does plague my haggard mind
As if some serpentine poison settled,
Seeping int'those fescennine crevices
Which the soul doth attempt to sepulcher.
Still, was it not fate's hand which interven'd?
Hath I all the blame? No no, surely not.
For if conscience made cowards of us all,
Good England would lack much posterity;
'Tis better the world gain the folio,
Be it hardly of my own withered hand,
And reap the benefits of truest art
Gained by perfidious means 'n'motley pens.
Th'most fervid of pens was Edward de Vere,
That solemn, poetic aristocrat;
Then Sirs Francis Bacon, Walter Raleigh
And th'intellectual Edmund Spencer,
Those gentlemenly philosophicals;
Last came Lord Brooke and Sir Philip Sidney,
And his charitable sister Mary
Of whom th'incomparable pair were sprung.
Ah! Art ardent memories t'plague me such?
Whilst wonders became masterpeices
In this circle of stage worthy players,
I scarcely gave to't, yet recieve th'applause!
Yet peace-I'll let reminecence take hold And live in blissful recollection
Until night pulls it's everlasting shade.

Saturday, October 18, 2008

Techno and Apple Salad. What Can I Say?

Sometimes life hits you in the face with a baseball bat. Other times, it pitches the ball to you at a hundred and ten miles per hour. But you know, it's better than standing in the outfield, watching everyone else screw up and getting no action. Which is how I've been feeling recently.

But things are starting to change. Like my wallflower role might be disappearing. Maybe I've hit the dancefloor. But I feel like I've lost something. Maybe a perspective. But I'm not going back. No way. Life only comes once. And people change. I think I've changed. Some of it's subtle, some of it's not. I wonder if anyone will be able to tell. I wonder if it will make a difference. All I can do is keep dancing. I guess that's all we can expect from anyone. It's a little hard. But it's way more fun. I'm excited.

Hopefully I'm making the right choice. I was doing fine on my own. But I think there were costs. I was very lonely. And maybe too ambitious. It's a cold way to live life. And in retrospect, what's more important: the place I make it to, or the life lived to get there? I've gained so much by losing that initial ambition. I'm so much happier, even though things are just as tough; maybe tougher. And I'm not as lonely. I want to help. I want to love them the way they've loved me.

Wednesday, October 15, 2008

Today's Not the Day to do Anything Spectacular. Hot Cocoa Works.

Sometimes I wish I could disappear into the world of dusty novels and scrawled notebooks, where no one can hurt me and I can hurt no one. Things would be so much simpler. If I could vanish like an elephant and let night consume me. I could tie a ribbon around my world and take it with me too. If it could be that simple, I would escape in an instant. Leave everything that was taking over my mind and grinding against my heart. How's that for angst?

Since I can't do that, I'll have to make due with listening to "Tune Out" by the Format and reading Dance Dance Dance by Haruki Murakami, simultaneously watching Little Miss Sunshine. It'll have to do.