To be, or not to be–that is the question:
Whether ’tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles
And by opposing end them.
To die, to sleep
And by a sleep to say we end
The heartache, and the thousand natural shocks
That flesh is heir to.
‘Tis a consummation devoutly to be wished.
To die, to sleep
To sleep…
perchance to dream:
ay, there’s the rub,
For in that sleep of death what dreams may come
When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,
Must give us pause.
There’s the respect.
That makes calamity of so long life.
For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,
The oppressor’s wrong,
The proud man’s contumely.
The pangs of despised love!!!
The law’s delay,
The insolence of office, and the spurns
That patient merit of the unworthy takes,
When he himself might his quietus make
With a bare bodkin?
Who would fardels bear,
To grunt and sweat under a weary life,
But that the dread of something after death,
The undiscovered country, from whose bourn
No traveller returns,
Puzzles the will,
And makes us rather bear those ills we have
Than fly to others that we know not of?
Thus conscience does make cowards of us all,
And thus the native hue of resolution
Is sicklied o’er with the pale cast of thought,
And enterprise of great pitch and moment
With this regard their currents turn awry
And lose the name of action…
This is from Hamlet. It is one of my favorite pieces. I understand his rant. I often feel this way. Â A fear of death as strong as the desire for it. But life can teach you. There are worse things than the fear of death. The lack of will to endure when I feel alone. The bare, raw, pain of this life when those who made it rich are gone or Done with you. Without even a torturer for comfort, just alone.
This is a strange and dark forum. A place to rant and lie to ourselves about all the reasons why we shouldn’t pass thru this time to what may be in the next. I think I am just stalling. I’m not sure why? Maybe I am just telling myself lies…
1 comment
And you are not the only one.
I lie to myself daily… the one last desire…. before I die.
Not expecting to live past, but as you say a fear.
More so of failure or cowardice in the last moment.