Daydreaming lazily of Shakespeare, reconciling the great characters and the great existential void to be filled…
It comes in and out of focus, a field of blurring thoughts, visions, imaginary landscapes…
Waiting, wishing, hoping, dreaming–filling my mind with outlandish fantasies that only further break my heart; wondering whether to close my eyes and savor the future, or stare at the calendar with unfathomable dread of the present.
What shall I make of myself before I shuffle off this mortal coil? What is my part in this play?–for all the world’s a stage, and all the men and women merely players. What will the audience remember, mulling over my cameo, my brief candle‘s flicker of life? For some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon them.
Or perhaps a pair of star-cross’d lovers, though the stars have not yet proven kind. But what better reason to live than to complement another being, to fulfill myself by fulfilling another?
Look on her, look! Her lips! Look there, look there! I toss and turn uneasily, stuck between my reality and my equally real! unreality. She is so close, so close, I can hold her in my arms, feel her warmth–and yet, so far.
Lord, what fools these mortals be! Maybe I’ve got it all wrong–there are more things in Heaven and Earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy.
All wrong! All wrong! How beauteous mankind is! How inordinately caring we are, how deeply committed we are; how spiritual, religious, irreligious; how caring, how caring!
Gentle breath of yours my sails must fill…