Blog #13: Act 1

             Everything is happening so fast. My father dyeing has made me so sad I don’t know what to do with myself. I cry every night in the fetal position and think why now. I am dressing in dark clothing because I feel dark inside due to recent events “Tis not alone my inky cloak, good mother. / Nor customary suits of solemn black” (1.1.78).  I always dreaded the day when my father was slain but I took comfort in the fact that I would be able to carry his great legacy through me. All these emotions flowing through me need a way to escape. I think I can put that into finding out if my scum bag Uncle who is in indecent relations with my ever so beautiful Mother killed my Father to be king. I love my father “his canon gainst self slaughter!” (1.1.131) he hath not died by his own hands but slain by thy uncle. Them being wed so close to my fathers’ death “But two months dead: nay, not so much, not two” (1.1.139). seems so disrespectful I just am filled with teenage grief I feel “how weary, stale, flat and unprofitable, Seem to me all the uses of this world” (1.1.134). but my dear friend Horatio could not have arrived soon my grief is so extensive that he will make it better “I am glad to see you…” (1.1.160).