I'm naming my malamute Wolfe...don't forget the 'e'

I have to stop being emo. These past posts have been howls at the moon. A paradoxical, an oxymoronic, and ironic shout by a lonesome figure hoping to be heard by wanderers or passersby. Lone wolves are quite disordered. Well actually, I can't stop being emotional since emotions are what makes us humans. There is no one who is completely devoid of emotion, the only difference that people have from each other is how much of that emotion they are willing to share others. It's a decision, a conscientious one, made by a person. Those people who are willing to share more are thought to be emo. There's nothing wrong with that. Though there's something wrong when you yourself don't believe in the decision you've made and then act unsuitably. It's not right, it's sort of cheating.

Petty...

Women are never disarmed by compliments; men always are.  ~Oscar Wilde

...or lack thereof. I'm kicking a puppy.

I'm thinking of going to seattle...

"A ruffled mind makes a restless pillow."-Charlotte Bronte
Well, ruffled hair makes an itchy pillow.

To sleep, perchance to dream...

RC, please let me sleep, this is not funny the fourth time :(. Nor was it the first. I'd much rather spend my time lying in restful reverie than watching Hamlet for three hours in a cold weekday morning. I have better things to do, though watching Gilderoy Lockhart act like a fool and prance around idiotically was fun. As "high-brow" or sophisticated Shakespearean literature is, the final scene where everyone dies is just too hilarious. We all know how this goes, Hamlet is invited to a friendly fencing match by Claudius against Laertes, seeing how the two were so adamant with the match, foul play was as obvious  as a willow among reeds (which is obvious according to Shakespeare, though literally, it is actually hard). Laertes then tells Claudius he has  poisoned the tip of his sword, so that only a scratch would kill Hamlet yet look like he died naturally; because, after all, dying in a friendly fencing match with only so much as a scratch done in by someone who made it quite clear to everyone, since the start of the movie, that he hates the living shit out of you does not warrant any suspicion or inquisition from the dozens of people in attendance which are aware of your spat with him. Claudius then assures Laertes he has a poisoned cup of wine if ever Laertes fails to wound Hamlet, since Laertes' reknown and esteemed reputation of the sword is not enough to go against a raving lunatic whose only form of martial combat within his years of existence consists of stabbing an old frail Mr. Smee trapped in a curtain (curtains are quite vicious traps). The fencing match starts, and what happens is of a very Monty Pythonesque fight. They jump and swish and slash around the whole damn court, screaming judgement from a very very confused Robin Williams, who at this point is as out of place as a willow among reeds (I will keep using this until I figure out what it means). People then realize the shit becomes real only when the two combatants swear to kill each other while messing everything up in the room, the appalling decor also angers Hamlet as much as Laertes does. Gertrude, gets Cladius' cup of wine and attempts to drink it. Claudius, showing his undying love for his wife, warns her with a simple "Ah" as he hilariously rolls his eyes, pretending he didn't do anything like a little boy. Laertes and Hamlet scratch each other with the poisoned sword, not without any gratuitous sliding around the court, before Gertrude dies of poison. Claudius lies and tells the people she had fainted, believing this to be utter bullshit, throws his sword, a tribute to Leonidas, at Claudius, pinning him to his seat and  chases down Claudius, slamming a damn chandelier at him, with cup in hand. Hamlet then, armed with his sando, suspenders, and bulging biceps, feeds Claudius by making Claudius suck his fingers which was wet with the wine, while whispering sweet nothings in Claudius' ear; Hamlet believed Claudius, who had killed his own brother, usurped the throne, and married his brother's wife, deserved the cruelest and most horrifying punishment known to him, death by homo-eroticism. Hamlet, realizing he is poisoned after being told so by a dying Laertes, chooses to die in style, assuming a position worthy of Tyra Banks. With every Danish Crown noble dead, Fortinbras and his Norwegian Soldiers casually walk inside the royal court and call it a decisive military victory. Fortinbras, seeing Hamlet dead in such a posh and alluring style, declares him to be a national hero. And they all lived happily ever after, with Denmark conquered By Norway due to the idiocy of their nobles.
With all honesty though, it was an entertaining movie. I found Kenneth Branagh's to be or not to be soliloquy to be (see what i did there?) emotional and moving. If you have any free time or just can't sleep, please give this movie a try.

On knowing if what you're doing is correct...

When you think you're doing the right thing, you must assume you're incorrect
Because there will always be a better way
When you think you're helping someone, you must make sure to give respect
Pity and sympathy are as different as night and day
Also all the things that you've said from all the things you've wanted to say


Though confidence and courage declares yourself to be the one who's sane
Prudence and understanding are worlds apart from plain intellect
As such, to care for someone wholeheartedly, withal to give your trust and praise
Thus to feel that they are amiss and need of your help, you give the benefit that they are correct
For what is a heart, without any love, or true friendship, without respect?

I am truly sorry, I confuse my arrogance for passion.