Good morning, people.

I just finished a book which ended in a little bit of Shakespeare:

Our revels now are ended. These our actors
… were all spirits and
Are melted into air, into thin air …
The cloud-capped towers, the gorgeous palaces,
The solemn temples …  dissolve
And, like this insubstantial pageant faded,
Leave not a rack behind. We are such stuff
As dreams are made on.

The Tempest

Stupid Prospero.

Maybe it was just one big party, these past seven years. Stuck on an island,  the world isolated from everything else. And not all parties are glitz and glam, but at times they actually are; they’re fun but then  sometimes even  quite messy and sometimes tense until somebody comes through and breaks things up, but I definitely got to meet a lot of new people and make some really good friends. Those people I’ll always keep close and hold dear, never to forget. Everything else fades, dissolves into the conscious present.

Party’s over. It’s time to wake up and get real.

I hate Shakespeare.

A little discussion.

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