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.

Um, random Shakespeare moment.

Don't judge.

Seriously, I've tried to write like, four profound things in this space but keep erasing it because I am horribly cliche. So I decided to turn it over to the master. But that's the only passage I really have memorized.

It's a good one. Although it's hard to go wrong with Shakespeare.

I was thinking about existentialism the other day (long story. Again, don't judge) and remembered why it was awesome. Basically, we're living a paradox. On one hand, we know that we're going to live and then we're going to die and in the end it's meaningless. And on the other hand, we hate that and desire meaning. So how do we reconcile that? Creating meaning.

And Shakespeare reminded me of the first part of that. About life, the poor player, strutting and fretting and signifying nothing.

Macbeth ended up something of a nihilist. Although given the circumstances, I can't really blame him. Corruption will do that.

Wow. Major dork moment there.

Whatever.

In other news, did anyone see that hulu Superbowl ad? The one where he was like "Because we're aliens. And that's how we roll"?

I DIED LAUGHING. NBC IS BRILLIANT.

Love always,
Clara