Incest

Act I, Scene 2
Why are women so weak for men? Why do their preferences fluctuate and their loyalty diminish? Incest! My mother has recovered from the death of my father too quickly. Her new love, Claudius, my father’s brother, has now taken the place of the love she once had for my father. Is love real? Can one truly have loved someone so much, and then fall in love with someone with little to no time of endured pain from the hurt of loss… loss of a loved one. How can one recover so quickly from the death of a husband, jump into bed with another man, a man who meets no similar standards of greatness as did the first. In the past, “…she would hang on him as if increase of appetite had grown by what it fed on, and yet, within a month—let me not think on ’t. Frailty, thy name is woman!—a little month, or ere those shoes were old with which she followed my poor father’s body, like Niobe, all tears. Why she, even she—O God, a beast that wants discourse of reason would have mourned longer!—married with my uncle, my father’s brother, but no more like my father than I to Hercules. Within a month, ere yet the salt of most unrighteous tears had left the flushing in her gallèd eyes, she married. O most wicked speed, to post with such dexterity to incestuous sheets! It is not nor it cannot come to good, but break, my heart, for I must hold my tongue.” I am the one enduring the pain, but in silence, while my mom makes the noises that a whore makes when in bed with a man sharing unforgivable pleasures in which they don’t deserve. Has she no shame! Oh, how my heart aches for my father, the man who symbolized superiority. My uncle could never amount, but the lust has blinded my mother from seeing this obvious truth, and has influenced her to open her legs yet again and again to a man of such low rank in virtue. I’m disgusted!
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The Power of Wealth

Act 2, Scene 2

How comical life is.  How the tables turn so swiftly. How erratic our species is, inconsistent in our faithfulness and our judgments of others. It’s because of these unfortunate characteristics of our kind, that I hardly find it strange that my country’s people, just as my mother has done, had accepted their new king with open arms, failing to see that he does not come close to the status of their previous king. What nincompoops! To accept what’s in front of them, as if they hadn’t perceived it as trash before. “It is not very strange. For my uncle is King of Denmark, and those that would make mouths at him while my father lived give twenty, forty, fifty, a hundred ducats apiece for his picture in little. 'Sblood, there is something in this more than natural, if philosophy could find it out.” Power most certainly does attract praise and tension, irrespective of whether that power was obtained in an immoral and spineless way. The man in which our town once bantered constantly, and neglected is now praised. His portraits make children happy.  The world is funny in this fact that nonentities can become important individuals with the acquiring of wealth and power. What a crude world this can be, and how unfair it can treat certain individuals. How low it is for these leeches and insects feed on pretense. Does his wealth and possession make him any better than the ones he rules. Do we not all end up in the same position when death decides to put our bodies to rest? Do they know of what a low man he is in honesty? Just as they had once praised my father cheers and attention, they now dish the same nonsense on my uncle. 

Life or Death

Act 3, Scene 1

This world is crude and unforgiving. How can this this life be so oppressive, burdening, scandalous, and unfair. Why do we endure so much pain on this dreadful planet, accepting it, rather than searching desperately for an escape, an escape to a potentially better place? Oh, how I wish I can sleep past all my troubles. This life is so exhausting. Can there be a world better than this? A world with more compassion and less evil is always a better environment. Where is this life leading to? What happens next? If it is rest, then I am excited. I’d much rather be at rest than to be here, where the bad take advantage of the good, and the champions walk around with no respect for anyone but themselves. Therefore, “To be, or not to be? That is the question—whether ’tis nobler in the mind to suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, Or to take arms against a sea of troubles, and, by opposing, end them? To die, to sleep—no more—and by a sleep to say we end the heartache and the thousand natural shocks that flesh is heir to—’tis a consummation devoutly to be wished! To die, to sleep.” “…For who would bear the whips and scorns of time, th' oppressor’s wrong, the proud man’s contumely, the pangs of despised love, the law’s delay, the insolence of office, and the spurns that patient merit of th' unworthy takes, when he himself might his quietus make with a bare bodkin? Who would fardels bear, to grunt and sweat under a weary life, but that the dread of something after death, the undiscovered country from whose bourn no traveler returns, puzzles the will.” It would be easier to end our lives rather than go through earth’s hell. But who will stand and, make this thought a man’s action. No one! Our fear of what may result paralyzes our hands from slicing our heads! If only one who has moved on to the next world can come back to proclaim the good news or bad news. It would certainly make the decision for us as to whether we should live or die. 

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The diet of a worm!

Act 4 Scene 3

Where do our minds go when death catches us? Where do our thoughts get saved? In the physicality of it, our bodies end up in the same state. Even when dead we are at dinner, being feasted on, and serving as a full course meal for the worms that search for food in the earth’s soil. Their diets consist of soil and our bodies that lie in it after death. The rat I just killed—the father of my love—is now serving dinner to his new comrades, “…where he is eaten. A certain convocation of politic worms are e'en at him. Your worm is your only emperor for diet. We fat all creatures else to fat us, and we fat ourselves for maggots. Your fat king and your lean beggar is but variable service—two dishes, but to one table. That’s the end.” That is the cycle of life; everyone’s fate is the same, and accepting our equality if a choice but the reality of it is nonnegotiable. The diet of worms is just so remarkable, and the price of their meals is free. The price doesn’t differentiate between the “qualities” of the food, whether it is a queen, king, or prince. So why does the value of higher ranked individuals go up amongst ourselves, when worms don’t even respect us enough to eat us with class. In life, after words, my body parts will be munched on by worms, so why don’t I humble myself and control my ego, because regardless, we are living to strengthen our bodies so that worms will have healthy snacks. Oh how death fascinates me! How worthless our lives pose to know that our bodies are fed on after we die. Do they eat that much, that are bones are reduced to dust. 

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It is my obligation to seek revenge!

Act 5 Scene 2

I must have the right to kill my uncle now. I have hesitated too much. I allowed myself to allow for a better opportunity, in which his death will be in the same state as my father when he died, before he could repent. My uncle has given me all the signs of proof that he indeed murdered my father. I refuse to let the next opportunity pass by to kill him, and feed in to schemes by indirectly giving him more time to plan out more plots. He has taken my throne, my father, and my whore of a mother. Justice must be served. Claudius must die. His two servants, Guildenstern and Rosencrantz, deserved to die as well. Their backstabbing friendship implied to me that they were just as spineless as Polonius. “Why, man, they did make love to this employment. They are not near my conscience. Their defeat does by their own insinuation grow. 'Tis dangerous when the baser nature comes between the pass and fell incensèd points of mighty opposites.” “Does it not, think thee, stand me now upon—He that hath killed my king and whored my mother, popped in between th' election and my hopes, thrown out his angle for my proper life (And with such cozenage!)—is’t not perfect conscience to quit him with this arm?” Claudius’ wrongs have far over compensated for his good deeds, and his punishment will be death! It will be moral as well, and my mind will not be filled with guilt afterwards. It is my obligation to seek justice for my father’s murder, and Claudius will pay. Though I may have seemed like a coward, no more hesitancy will preclude me from accomplishing this revenge. Blood will be on my blood. 

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One Sweet Day

This song reflects my love for Ophelia, and my acceptance that she is in a better place, in heaven, smiling down on me.

Title: One Sweet Day

Artists: Mariah Carey and Boyz II Men

Lyrics:

Sorry, I've never told you, all I wanted to say

And now it's too late to hold you

'Cause you've flown away

So far away

Never had I imagined

Living without your smile

Feelin' and knowing you, hear me

It keeps me alive, alive

And I know you're shining down on me from Heaven

Like so many friends we've lost along the way

And I know eventually we'll be together

One sweet day

Eventually I'll see you in Heaven

Darling, I never showed you

Assumed you'd always be there

I, I took your presence for granted

But I always cared

And I miss the love we shared

I know you're shining down on me from Heaven

Like so many friends we've lost along the way

And I know eventually we'll be together

One sweet day

Picture a little scene from Heaven

Although, the sun will never shine the same

I'll always look to a brighter day

Yeah, Lord, I know, when I lay me down to sleep

You will always listen as I pray

And I know you're shining down on me from heaven

Like so many friends we've lost along the way

And I know eventually we'll be together

One sweet day

And I know you're shining down on me from Heaven

Like so many friends we've lost along the way

And I know eventually we'll be together

One sweet day

Sorry, I never told you

All I wanted to say

I miss Ophelia :(

Open Thoughts

"Oh how much my heart aches due to your death. My sweet love. There is so much I wanted to tell you before you moved away from me. I did love you. I loved you more than you could imagine. This song tells it in a more sensual way than I can. I never meant to hurt you Ophelia."

I really loved  you Ophelia... more than I showed. My words to you were not just devices I used to just seduce you. You beauty was immeasurable, and though it causes me to think lustful thoughts sometimes, it never was the cause of my love. Your decision to not write back broke my heart. Though not to the level of insanity, I definitely was distraught. My madness for your love was not fake, though my methods of showing you were. You are now in heaven my angel, and in due time we will meet again.  Listen to this song as you watch over me my love.