I read Hamlet a while ago, and though I hated Claudius–as he’s meant to be–I admire his way with words. It is quite an irony that such a vile character is also capable of such profound thoughts.
National Blog Posting Month – Day 22.
I’ll resume my novel with chapter 20 tomorrow.
Have courage, dear heart.
Though tomorrow is Monday,
Friday’s bound to come.
Bob Propst had some nerve saying what he did. We all like our ‘personal space,’ but when that space becomes the office cubicle, we have nothing else to do than to watch the world pass by. How pathetic and how true.
For the past few weeks, I’ve been reading Shakespeare’s Hamlet. The original play in full. And it’s given me moments of solitary pleasure and bliss like none other.
A long time ago, I read a simplified version of the play, and I thought it was just too cinematical. It felt like watching an old movie with a plot that’s been beaten to boredom.
But when I read the play now, I realize how wrong I had been. The story isn’t new, yes, except that everything about it feels new. Shakespeare’s use of words, his insults, his puns and vivid descriptions make Hamlet such an interesting read.
And no one makes imaginary characters utter advice and words of wisdom like Shakespeare does. I’ve found a new respect towards the man. He’s The Man.
And here’s a little titbit.
“Conceit in weakest bodies strongest works”
Pure genius, huh? I know!
What’s the purpose of birth?
It’s a zen-like rhetorical question, but like they say, everything has a purpose.
How about an accident? I like to look at accidents and huge catastrophes – sad though they are – as Nature’s way of clearing up the world; as a way of weeding out ripe lives so as to make room for fresh ones.
But what happens when birth itself is an accident? Is it just Nature’s way of telling us there’s still something left to experience? We’ll never know, unless we pay attention.
The Chaos Within 