Life

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.

Another week goes by, another week closer to our shallow grave. Time gallops by, pounding its hoofs in the sands of our life. And when the dust settles, we are left wondering where our time went.


To work, to sleep, to wake up to the buggerations of this world. Life. You disgust me.