Fogginess of Mind



Mr. Darcy...why can't he always stride through the early morning fog?



It's a gloomy morning on campus, the fog is plentiful this morning. This is the kind of thick fog that gives everything a romantic, Gothic feel. It always happens that when I see this fog, I always expect Mr. Darcy to come striding across the field towards me, but I know that will never happen (as much as this girl likes to dream it would). There is something in the calm of fog and weather like this that makes me want to curl into bed and just stare out my window and write in my journal. Not to sound like one of THOSE girls, you know the kind (the ones with the hair in their eyes, the sunken cheeks, and the black eye liner), but it's just fact: fog makes me feel calm and peaceful.



Of course I can't lay in bed because I'm behind on my reading...as usual. I should know that Byron and Elizabeth Bishop will not somehow implant their work into my head. That is impossible. I just need to get some of my delish tea and sit at my desk by my window and get to work...but of course I will continue to procrastinate, it's what I do best.

I've realized that I have forgotten to explain the title of my blog. How silly of me. So, as an English major and lover of all things English (I love the royals, the weather, and let's face it...Harry Potter) I am a great admirer of Willy Shakes (William Shakespeare for those that didn't get the reference). The title of my blog All the World's a Stage... is based off of one of my favorite lines from his play "As You Like It".  The lines that follow remind me that our life on this stage (earth) is short, and what we do with the characters we have been given is up to us. Ultimately in this life, we are given a handful of roles to act out in different stages of life, it's how we act out those roles in different stages that defines who we are. Just my thoughts. So, dear reader, if you've stayed with me this long, please read what Wills writes... what role do you want? Are you a lead actor in this world, or just a supporting actor?

"All the world's a stage,
And all the men and women merely players:
They have their exits and their entrances;
And one man in his time plays many parts,
His acts being seven ages. At first the infant,
Mewling and puking in the nurse's arms.
And then the whining school-boy, with his satchel
And shining morning face, creeping like snail
Unwillingly to school. And then the lover,
Sighing like furnace, with a woeful ballad
Made to his mistress' eyebrow. Then a soldier,
Full of strange oaths and bearded like the pard,
Jealous in honour, sudden and quick in quarrel,
Seeking the bubble reputation
Even in the cannon's mouth. And then the justice,
In fair round belly with good capon lined,
With eyes severe and beard of formal cut,
Full of wise saws and modern instances;
And so he plays his part. The sixth age shifts
Into the lean and slipper'd pantaloon,
With spectacles on nose and pouch on side,
His youthful hose, well saved, a world too wide
For his shrunk shank; and his big manly voice,
Turning again toward childish treble, pipes
And whistles in his sound. Last scene of all,
That ends this strange eventful history,
Is second childishness and mere oblivion,
Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything."