Shakesperian Prose

January 30, 2011
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Tis’ the sun that shines in the sky. Tis’ the moon that takes the sun’s place come eve. Tis’ the flickering candle light that shines your way through the dark anger and angst.
All thine things seem to be your reality, but how does thee know? How do thee acquire said information?
The moon rises just as the sun shines. Nay, who am I to make such fond judgments? For all I know is who I am. Contrariwise, even full comprehension of thine information can be rather challenging at times.
I long for peace, such a simple thought, one may assume. Nay, who are thee to assume? We all here, inhabit the same lush planet we call home.
Thy views I poses are rather idealistic, which is the only way I believe thy makes it possible to grasp this “reality.” While maintaining the bare sanity that is required for survival. While in actuality, thine possesses no true knowledge.
So, indulge me with this, who am I?





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