Life is so fucking complicated.

Feb 18, 2006 10:53

I'm sorry for repeating myself, yourself, everyself. But it is. Sometimes brute facts must be repeated, or we tend to forget about them. Not that I could forget.

I can think, rethink and counterthink all I want, but, in the end, here's where I stand. When 1 AM rolls around, everyone stays, I go home. No matter the rationale, all I feel is others staying and me going home. And that's how I feel a lot of times. Sure, there's a complicated explanation for things, but at face value, which is usually what we humans feel, I feel like I'm getting left out. Oh well.

How all occasions do inform against me,
And spur my dull revenge! What is a man,
If his chief good and market of his time
Be but to sleep and feed? a beast, no more.
Sure, he that made us with such large discourse,
Looking before and after, gave us not
That capability and god-like reason
To fust in us unused. Now, whether it be
Bestial oblivion, or some craven scruple
Of thinking too precisely on the event,
A thought which, quarter'd, hath but one part wisdom
And ever three parts coward, I do not know
Why yet I live to say 'This thing's to do;'
Sith I have cause and will and strength and means
To do't. Examples gross as earth exhort me:
Witness this army of such mass and charge
Led by a delicate and tender prince,
Whose spirit with divine ambition puff'd
Makes mouths at the invisible event,
Exposing what is mortal and unsure
To all that fortune, death and danger dare,
Even for an egg-shell. Rightly to be great
Is not to stir without great argument,
But greatly to find quarrel in a straw
When honour's at the stake. How stand I then,
That have a father kill'd, a mother stain'd,
Excitements of my reason and my blood,
And let all sleep? while, to my shame, I see
The imminent death of twenty thousand men,
That, for a fantasy and trick of fame,
Go to their graves like beds, fight for a plot
Whereon the numbers cannot try the cause,
Which is not tomb enough and continent
To hide the slain? O, from this time forth,
My thoughts be bloody, or be nothing worth!

I'm not going to sit around anymore.

Expect no future entries.

Love,
Keegan
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