|Shakespeare Before And After|
The Tragedy Of Oreo..
Or Soliloquy of Dunking
O, what a rogue and peasant slave am I!
Is it not monstrous that this player here,
But in a fiction, in a dream of passion,
Could force his soul so to his own conceit
That from her working all his visage wann'd,
Tears in his eyes, distraction in's aspect,
A broken voice, and his whole function suiting
With forms to his conceit? and all for nothing!
What's Oreo to him, or he to Oreo,
That he should weep for her? What would he do,
Had he the motive and the cue for passion
That I have? He would drown the stage with milk
And cleave the general goblet with horrid dunking,
Make mad the guilty and appal the free,
Have not quit..but am dealing with emotional sabotage self inflicted. I really need a shrink., perhaps. To deal with the routine of depressive emotions cued by environment and situations that drive me there. Riding it out. I will reach my goal. Just moody and complicated at present.