"BACK TO LIFE, BACK TO REALITY..."

so i got off my sorry ass today
after lounging in my carnal comforts

a prolonged languished delay

and of all the wisdom of yesterday
the truth came from a shakespeare's play

HAMLET.
Act III, Scene iii:

King: (Rises.) My words fly up, my thoughts remain below.
Words without thoughts never to heaven go.

And we can spend endless summers
talk of love and truth and liberty and justice
what's the point if our talk remains talk
empty gusts of self-righteous pompous air
what good is a fiddle if it can't play tunes
what good is a pen if it can't scribe
what good are your principles if it's just empty blabber
what good is form without structure?

today, with trepidation
i asked myself
what is to be of my life?

and though i still might not know
what is to become of me
i do know what i don't want it to be...

"a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing."
-Macbeth, Act V, Scene v.