The Thinking Bubble
Tuesday, June 12, 2012
When You Know You're Almost There
Thursday, July 21, 2011
Sunday, May 15, 2011
O Valiant Cousin!
There's blood upon thy face.
Your blasted instruments of darkness,
Like the Russian bear or the Hyrcan tiger,
Undaunted by death or the invisible hand of hell,
Didst dash'd his brains out;
In every point twice done and then done double.
Good things of day begin to droop.
Here lay the most royal Duncan; his silver skin laced with his golden blood.
The expedition of his violent destruction,
Too cold for hell,
Is smother'd in the wine of life.
Fantastical blanket of mischief summons thee to hell.
Torture of the mind,
For imperfect prisoners that saw him die.
Tear to pieces that tender bond,
Of two perfectest friends of foes.
Brave Macbeth,
I dreamt last night,
That he hath ask'd for you.
Wednesday, May 4, 2011
Wednesday, April 20, 2011
Oh So Dramatic #%!%!!!
*Grabs and plucks flower*
Nwoye, Okonkwo, Nwoye, Okonkwo, Nwoye. I am not who they want me to be. I am not my father. The manliness of our village, Mother, scares and intimidates me. But I know that it is foolish to be womanly. It is said that a boy turns into a man only when he knows of this. But this is not the case for me. Growing up as the eldest son, Father always had higher expectations for me no matter what I did; whether doing chores or taking care of my brothers and sisters, Father always expected nothing less than the best. A year ago was the closet I came to pleasing Father, the year when Ikemefuna was still alive. I can still recall the day Father returned to his obi from the forests without him. I felt my insides turn to ice, numbness spreading like a contagious disease throughout ever inch of body as I watched Father’s grave face. Watching him slump onto his bed, I knew my brother was gone and soon the heavy burdens that came with being the eldest came crashing onto me again with impossible force. Once again I had become not only my Father’s but Umuofia’s lost cause. The death of my brother sparked mysterious feelings of rage and confusion. These were the same feelings that courses through my veins every time twins are banished. Life should be treasured, not carelessly thrown away; Ikemefuna committed no crime yet he was murdered. He was murdered by an Oracle he never met, the very Oracle that brought him to our village. This is why I chose to join them, those who do not judge me. I can now life my life the way I choose without expectations pressing me down. Nwoye, Okonkwo, Nwoye, Okonkwo, I am neither.
*Beheads poor flower*
My name is Isaac.