tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow

creeps in this petty pace from day to day

till the last syllable of recorded time

and all our yesterdays have lighted fools the way to dusty death.

out out brief candle!

life's but a walking shadow

a poor player that struts and frets his hour upon the stage

and then is heard no more.

it is a tale told by an idiot; full of sound and fury,

signifying nothing.

the pain, anguish and despair, packaged up so neatly, contained in this nugget.

whatever othello is, shakespeare still has that gift of expressing emotions.

sec ones(:

i loved the performance(:

though ivan and i didn't get the white mumified hands thing till everything was done.

it was beautiful though(:

and the "shower" of blue thing was really...

dazzling(:

thanks for all the effort(:

study tomorrow!