this post was submitted on 23 May 2024
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Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow,
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day
To the last syllable of recorded time,
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
Life’s but a walking shadow, a poor player
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage
And then is heard no more: it is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing.
but. three day weekend up ahead. so theres that.
Nice poem, melancholy, but still nice. I used to write poems all the time, I think I'll make a habit next month to get back into it.
Today's the anniversary of my dad's death, 21 years ago. I've gotten over the grief of losing him, but ever since, the first-hand experience of watching someone fade away kept my head pretty clear whenever things got tough. I always thought to myself, this life really is brief, in the grand scheme of things, so it's better not to worry about the little things, or even the big things. Good music, good food, good company, good conversations. Might as well have a good time, while it lasts.
its shakespears. sorry I did not attribute but im lazy like that. Its a saliloqy from mcbeth which I actually had to memorize in high school and pull out every so often. A bit of a joke. Losing ones dad is no joke though (or mum). Lost mint to alzheimers and would not wish that on anyone (including me. my sister was diagnosed with early and im not sure if our ability to catch it early is a good thing)
This is my philosophy right here. I want to enjoy what I have while I can.