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A plague has infested the likes of my morale. I’ve stooped low, so low, that withdrawing myself from the guilt of expression seems impossible. Overlooked silences tend to morph into terrible misunderstandings. And from there on, starts an agonizing journey alone. Despite fractions of feelings and nostalgia, nothing can be done to redeem the morning glory. An overcast shadow that slithers away into past moments. At times, the unbearable ache forces the fears to subside into the background of conscience. Aptly, at this apex, lizards mean nothing but a creature of trivial proportions. Hence, you continue draining your hands and tears into the basin.

On ground one again, I felt like pouring out myself. But to no good use can a change in context be put, and that too with a repeated mistake. I should have learned by now. But being a woman, and most importantly, a human at heart, I fail to conform to the complicities of moments. I’d rather let them drag on till they can no longer hold a meaning.

Of intuitive dreams likened to sordid reality, I remain befuddled. The path of the former is mine not to take. The latter, despite being true, is the way of indecision and consequences. I remain hanging.

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  1. This quotation, Hamlet’s first important soliloquy, occurs in Act I, scene ii (129–158). Hamlet speaks these lines after enduring the unpleasant scene at Claudius and Gertrude’s court, then being asked by his mother and stepfather not to return to his studies at Wittenberg but to remain in Denmark, presumably against his wishes. Here, Hamlet thinks for the first time about suicide (desiring his flesh to “melt,” and wishing that God had not made “self-slaughter” a sin), saying that the world is “weary, stale, flat, and unprofitable.” In other words, suicide seems like a desirable alternative to life in a painful world, but Hamlet feels that the option of suicide is closed to him because it is forbidden by religion. Hamlet then goes on to describe the causes of his pain, specifically his intense disgust at his mother’s marriage to Claudius. He describes the haste of their marriage, noting that the shoes his mother wore to his father’s funeral were not worn out before her marriage to Claudius. He compares Claudius to his father (his father was “so excellent a king” while Claudius is a bestial “satyr”). As he runs through his description of their marriage, he touches upon the important motifs of misogyny, crying, “Frailty, thy name is woman”; incest, commenting that his mother moved “[w]ith such dexterity to incestuous sheets”; and the ominous omen the marriage represents for Denmark, that “[i]t is not nor it cannot come to good.” Each of these motifs recurs throughout the play.

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