99 reasons why I love my lilybub and I why I don’t: 4. She puts up with my obsession with Sherlock. And just about every other obsession I’ve had really, because when I like it I like it, although none have ever reached such epic proportions as Sherlock.
So, I started reading Hamlet today. Fucking Claudius. Two lines in and I was already losing my shit, and he hadn’t even appeared yet. Also:
Barnardo: Who’s there?
Francisco: Nay, answer me. Stand and unfold [reveal] yourself.
What the fuck, Francisco?! I’m pretty sure Barnardo asked you first you rude inconsiderate twat. Jesus fuck.
Um, you know what… I think I’ll leave this for reading on the travel to uni tomorrow morning instead, when I’m less angry and more sleepy and therefore less liable to hulk out on it.
I finished my sonnet for english so you’ll hear no more complaints about sonnets from me; though it’s really just a rewriting of an older poem I wrote ages back. And before anyone verbally flays me for not writing an entirely new piece, rewriting freeverse into a sonnet is much harder than writing a sonnet from scratch. I wrote a brand new sonnet after I rewrote the other one to hand in, and it took about half the time. Fucking sonnets. Here, marvel at my incompetence: (can this even rightfully be called a sonnet?)
Did you know you used to be my hero?
To save me, and to catch me when I fall,
You were the one I trusted unconditionally.
My support through ups and downs, and through it all.
Did you know you were my knight, my shining light?
The one I so trusted to be my guide
through the brightest days and the starless nights,
to catch me when I fall and stand by my side.
You were my best friend to whom I whispered
all of my secrets; that last secret of mine
I wish I didn’t have – I regret it now.
I just wish I could speak to you one last time.
To take back the one that made you pack your bags,
I’d say I’m sorry for being gay, dad.
I just really really hate Claudius.