To thine own self be true...

" To die, to sleep-

To sleep, perchance to dream- ay, there's a rub.

For in this sleep of death what dreams may come..."

I love William Shakespeare.  I am OBSESSED with Hamlet.  Like so obsessed that if he was alive real, I'd totally stalk him.

I own a copy of the play as well as the Kenneth Branagh version of the movie.

For the record, the Mel Gibson version sucks.  You want real-check out the Kenneth Branagh's version.

It's absolutely stunning.

I'm not really sure what I love the most.

The passion.

The characters.

The tragedy.

The pain.

The love.

The treachery.

The list could go on and on.

I owe a thank you to my English 101/102 teacher, Mrs. Ramirez, who opened me up to the subtle beauty that lies beneath such a fatal story.

Hamlet's devotion to avenge his father's death is poetic and poignant.

And when he finds out it was his Uncle, who then becomes his step father?

His rage is so graceful that you forget that this is a heartbreaking story about back stabbing and murder, that you identify with him on a whole other level.

You see his pain. 

You see how it corrupts his love for Ophelia and sends him in a downward spiral, shattering everything that stands in his way.

His true love.

His best friend.

His faithful and loyal subjects.

To the point where he has nothing left to live.

But his spirit.

His intense, bitter, consuming spirit.

To have that passion that he had for his vengeance...

I think that is what I unequivocally admire the most.

To be able to be absolute in what you want in life.

That is what it is to truly live.

" Doubt thou the stars are fire;

Doubt that the sun doth move;

Doubt truth to be a liar;

But never doubt I love"