"Two Eyes that Shine Like the Moon, but the Clouds Never Let them Come Out..."

[psalm_onethirtyone]

...Lillie is getting the Crack! Hamlet musical. The whole thing. How much does this rock? I mean, how much does this utterly totally impossibly win?

*bweeeeeeeeeeees*

So, yes, in other news...!

I am exhausted, and I don't know why, but I am utterly exhausted. I have had no time at all to-day, just as I imagined, but still, that oughtn't be enough, ought it?

I have been forbidden on pain of death to sing Artificial Flowers, especially if I should sing it the way Bobby Darin does. On the other hand, I am no longer forbidden to play the Crack!Hamlet musical; Waen has actually become so fond of some of the songs that she plays them voluntarily, very often.

I have even more things to send, now, but no envelopes or boxes. My collection is failing me rather. I shall have to make a search on Thursday indeed (I shall have no time to-morrow). Mum was going to come with me to work to-morrow, but something came up and she can't. She has been promising that eventually she will since last April; the trouble is that my work is almost exactly like her work, so she already knows what it is, and says it would be rather a busman's holiday. ;_; But I want her to meet my people, especially Anna.

Anna said if I should give her a photograph of myself, she'll give me one of her. ^_________^ Then I could show you--! And I should not ever have to worry about forgetting her. I should not, of course, but I really do like the idea of having a photograph of her. I shall try to find one of myself that's halfway decent.

The socken are upsetting me. I have never been this upset about any of them before. Augh. ;_____________;

I don't think I have the energy to do anything to-morrow, and yet there's more to do to-morrow than to-day. I shall never be free (of course I shall; I'm being very silly). I'm hungry, and I can't think why, although perhaps it's the fact that we had supper at five because of my French class, and it was very light... but still, but still.

Ngg.

I need a fire and a mug of cocoa and my sweater and a book, that's what I need.

Unfortunately, I shall not be getting them.

Comments

[silverdragon262.livejournal.com]

...

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...it's not. We blame ourselves; he blames himself.

[rainbowjehan.livejournal.com]

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...poor rosencrantz.

[silverdragon262.livejournal.com]

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...that too. ;____; -- Hamlet, you don't know about that.

[rainbowjehan.livejournal.com]

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...God. I'm sorry about this. It should not have happened. it makes me ache

[silverdragon262.livejournal.com]

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...No-- don't. We all agreed on it. It-- it's all right. I know.

[rainbowjehan.livejournal.com]

...

God. I know. But I want them to be the way they were someday. ;_; I know they can't be fixed, but I wish to heaven they could be-- the way they were. All right, you know. I just-- I'm sorry. the time is out of joint.

[silverdragon262.livejournal.com]

...

Maybe-- someday. Someday. And it really did all start with Beeklzebub-- so I'm sorry. But... perhaps, in a bit, when this all calms down and the death stops, they can go ago for a spell. ...I'm sorry. I shouldn't have just started laughing.

[rainbowjehan.livejournal.com]

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...Maybe? Someday? Oh. --how? *clings* I don't even--remember-- oh. I wish they could, I so terribly wish they could. No. you oughtn't've. *taps lightly*

[silverdragon262.livejournal.com]

...

I don't know-- I don't, but they love eachother, and... and Hamlet's not able to be very happy, we know, but-- as they were. *clings* Because-- that's when the fight, the doubt, Rosencrantz all began... And perhaps they can; it would not be, perfect, perhaps, but it would be quiet, and steady, and good for soft conversations and warm embraces. ...Sorry. I blame One Minute Hamlet.

[rainbowjehan.livejournal.com]

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They do, shouldn't that count for something? Horatio knew how to have a balance, knew how to make things work, even when they weren't happy--he kept things steady. I don't know what we'll do-- *clingsback* Oh. Oh. You're right, you're--oh. But it's so much Horatio's fault, even with all of that. The first time, perhaps, there was some excuse, but the second fadetoblack, the humbling, the praying, his own death-- he invited it all. >_< But I wish, I wish, I wish--just like that. Oh. You can't always blame oneminuteHamlet. Someday you'll have to start blaming fourhourHamlet.

[silverdragon262.livejournal.com]

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Yes! And it must, I think, or else they would have fallen apart a long time ago. He did, and I think that, sometimes, the moments where Hamlet was sane, or sane-ish, or smiled, were enough. *whimper* -- I know. And I rather wish I'd never-- ...but. Maybe if it just never happens again? -- I think... I think that might be doable? If Horatio wanted it. But I love fourhourHamlet...

[rainbowjehan.livejournal.com]

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...Yes, yes, it must, then. Oh. --No, no, don't wish-- it's not-- --maybe. Maybe if somehow Horatio can be convinced not to hate himself for-ever, or to find some way to lift the weight-- if he can be brought back to life-- if, if, if. Oh, God, might it? That would be-- Horatio would do anything to be brought back. You must be cruel only to be kind!

[silverdragon262.livejournal.com]

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Well, maybe-- Um. Well, Hamlet's probably going to try-- something stupid... but he can be talked out of it, I think. Which would be like-- like saving Hamlet's life, wouldn't it? ...and I'm sure he will be brought back. One of benevolent gods might be good. Or an angel. ...oh, I don't know.

[rainbowjehan.livejournal.com]

Horatio will--will do anything. He will talk, he will plead, he swears he will beg on his knees, will perform any task, with endure any trial, will do anything to talk Hamlet out of --whatever stupid thing he means to do, and-- more to bring himself back to life. Should he appeal to a God? I-- would that be all right? May he?

[little-lady-d.livejournal.com]

... ... ... sorry about that.

[rainbowjehan.livejournal.com]

No, don't be, it's---

I've got library paste, I'll put all the hearts back together, I swear.

[little-lady-d.livejournal.com]

i was honestly not going to post that, but then -- i was also honestly not going to let ros write a love letter. puppets are insistent little devils.

-- oh, good. library paste solves everything. that and duct tape, but, library paste sounds better for the hearts of literary characters.

[rainbowjehan.livejournal.com]

I'm glad you did. It's helping Horatio realise how horrible he's been. --Yes, I'm--afraid they are.

Yes, yes, doesn't it? If it can put pages back in, it should certainly be able to--yes.

[little-lady-d.livejournal.com]

... does horatio need any help with that? (ros is of the opinion -- well --)

how romantic, to think of the heart like a thing with pages ...

[rainbowjehan.livejournal.com]

Well. Not--not precisely, you know. but. (poor ros--)

Literary hearts are pages. I think.

Oh, dear.

[little-lady-d.livejournal.com]

exactly. feeling horrible is, like, horatio's thing -- he doesn't need an emo!rosencrantz to help. (but don't feel too sorry for ros, you might over-step yourself.)

heart-literature would be -- but what does the heart read?

... oh, dear?

[rainbowjehan.livejournal.com]

well, true. But his usual feeling horrible is just that--everyday guilt. This calls for special guilt, and there ros is very helpful. (I don't care--!)

Philosophy in the sky.

...sigh.

[little-lady-d.livejournal.com]

it's not something ros would want to be helpful in, usually -- (-- stubborn girl.)

... i once expected the meaning of life to be written somewhere in the clouds ...

'msorry. ;_;

[rainbowjehan.livejournal.com]

...he's an unwilling benefactor, then. (Terribly)

... i expect it was, once.

Don't be sorry.

[little-lady-d.livejournal.com]

-- ros -- well. when he says 'cross' -- he's just being petty, really. he doesn't really want horatio to feel horrible, except for feeling horrible, and maybe to say sorry for being so sorry -- ros isn't the best of thinkers under normal circumstances, we're afraid. (see why you shouldn't feel that sorry for him?)

too bad everyone didn't think to read with their hearts ... !

but -- but --