This week while lounging at my friend's place I happened upon a book of poetry. Old with the binding coming undone, I did what most witches do--open to a random page and see what poem I got. As you could have guessed from the title, at random selection, I fell upon the famous soliloquy of Hamlet (Act 3, Scene 1).
Having read Hamlet and other Shakespeare plays almost eight years ago, I really don't remember a single thing. When someone says Shakespeare, I summon a picture of an actor guy foaming with love for anything Shakespeare and going to a "modern rendition" of MacBeth.
So, on this random Wednesday afternoon I had the joy and pleasure of reading this poem/soliloquy and found my heart soaring. I finally got what Hamlet was talking about.
To be or not to be that is the question. How many times had I uttered that same sentiment this summer trying to figure out what to do with my life? Is it noble to suffer? Suffer a job I can't stand? Suffer as an artist? Can we, as humans transcend gravity and the flesh we are heir to? When I get older, as a female, will my dreams be utterly smashed, since only the youthful and beautiful have a place in this world? When will the planets stop being in retrograde? Because the natural shocks and heartache that I have been feeling for the past month have been brutal. By opposing society and the opinions of others will I win against my troubles? But most of all, when I die, will what I have done on this Earth be for love or bent to the will of fear?
I really don't know. All I know is Hamlet is my homie.
For anyone who, like me, needs a refresher on Hamlet's soliloquy, here it is below: