lazarusisdead

Yeah, well, the time has come for another one.

'Alas! poor Yorick. I knew him, Horatio; a fellow of infinite jest, of most excellent fancy...'

Is it time to sing the dirges yet?

'To die: to sleep; no more; and by a sleep to say we end the heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks that flesh is heir to,'t is a consummation devoutly to be wish'd.' and even more to the point: '...for in that sleep of death what dreams may come when we have shuffled off this mortal coil, must give us pause.'

But...maybe this is all a dream: '...you have but slumber'd here while these visions did appear. And this weak and idle theme, no more yielding but a dream...' Talk about screwing around with the meaning, eh?

43 years old. Hmmm. 'Now is the winter of (my) discontent...'

'The weight of this sad time we must obey; speak what we feel, not what we ought to say. The oldest hath borne most: we that are young shall never see so much, nor live so long.'

This is starting to depress me even more, pulling out these lines from my favourites. If I start quoting from Romeo and Juliet, then we're all in trouble.

'There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy.' I'm going to keep searching this year, and hope that my cynicism doesn't (continue to?) drive them away.

This whole entry doesn't make any sense at all. Except, to me, it does. I love being alive. I love living. I want to keep on living forever.