Wednesday, August 18, 2010

Messed up again

Intensely dizzy and exhausted this past 3 days. At times, unable to be out of bed. Of course the mind wants to plan around it, fix it, figure it out, but there's really nothing much for it to do.

There is the realization that at some point this whole game comes to an end and is 'rounded with a sleep'. Poof. Gone.

Prospero:
Our revels now are ended. These our actors,
As I foretold you, were all spirits, and
Are melted into air, into thin air:
And like the baseless fabric of this vision,
The cloud-capp'd tow'rs, the gorgeous palaces,
The solemn temples, the great globe itself,
Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve,
And, like this insubstantial pageant faded,
Leave not a rack behind. We are such stuff
As dreams are made on; and our little life
Is rounded with a sleep.
The Tempest Act 4, scene 1, 148–158

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