To Be or not to Be Translation

(We're studying Hamlet right now and had to do a "translation" of the "To be or not to be" soliloquy. I decided to post it because it sounded somewhat poetic, in its own way.)
To live, or not to live-that's what I'm wondering:
Whether it's braver (in my mind) to bear
all the bad times,
or if I should be against my troubles
and, by being against them, end them. To die, to sleep,
no more (it's over)-and by death we end
the pains of life (all things human)
that humans all get (because of their humanity)-this occurance
is wished for. To die, sto sleep-
to sleep, and maybe to dream. Yes, there's the problem,
because in death the dreams that happen
when we die
might scare us. That's the thing
that makes us put with life.
Who would bear the awfulness of time,
the wrong oppressor, the proud man's insulting treatment,
the hurt of love not returned, delayed justice,
the rude government and the rejection
that taxes people
when you can just fix it yourself
with a dagger? Who would bear these burdens,
to grunt and sweat in this tiresome life,
but there is dread of what's after death,
that undiscovered country that those who go there
don't return, paralyzes your will
and makes us bear the bad things,
instead of flying to other things we don't know about?
So, it is our conscience that makes us all cowards,
and the natural color of resolution
is weakened over with the pale color of our thoughts,
and the great endevours brought by the moment
go wrong and fade away
and lose action.

Quilt

This is a picture of my newest quilt! (Sorry it's so blurry and at this point in the picture it isn't done.)

Final Project Movie

So much work but I hope it'll be rewarding. I'm nearly done a larger movie, for my drama class. It's taken ages to form but it's finally coming to a finish! I've also done a "behind the scenes" movie to go with it. I'll post it once it's done!

Books: April

(Yeah I totally forgot to do this, but here it is now. It was a boring month anyway, when it came to books.)
Books Read:
-In the Mummy's Tomb by Lynn Beach
-Hamlet (the novel)
-The Tower Treasure by Franklin W. Dixon
-The Complete Works of Edgar Allen Poe
Total: A pathetic 4....

Books Bought: None whatsoever... (This makes me cry inside)

Hidden Horror Drawing

A "just because" drawing. With my new logo! ♥

Funeral

The air is full of muffled sobs,
of stifled grief and rainy tears.
The air is tangible, a thing alive,
gripping hearts and lungs with fingers
cold and cruel and searching hungrily.
Seeping into bones is rain, amongst tears
and an eternal dew, casting prisms of light
among the ever present darkness.
False sadness and comforts drip like poison
from a greedy, beguiling snake,
and faces are painted and impossibly perfect,
unnaturally beautiful on this grey, rainy day.
And within the beautiful darkness,
the warm, comforting darkness, rests
a bed as soft as a dream, dreamt by
every mortal man, woman and child.
Lovely rashes of colorful flowers bejewel
the otherwise dull, lifeless spaces.
A murmur of creatures and feastings
and all the while, from sadness is life,
and soon every walking collection of soil
shall melt and join together in the sea of others.
Over time, with warm lazy days and
tense, stormy days and all other days
comes the scent of sweet lovely death,
and the futile efforts of mere mortals.

Danse Macabre

The sun fades away the horizon
and all is still, the in-between time.
All is quiet, as though lying in waiting…
and then there is a stiff, sudden movement.
Slender, twig-like fingers grasp the earth
and strain as the rest follows upwards, through soil.
Dark empty sockets gaze around, soaking in moonlight.
And then, under the shining full moon, a dance begins.
A single violin plays, lively notes awakening the others
and soon the entire field is full of figures,
all dancing in their own ways, and a clacking
sound is heard whenever they touch each other.
The violinist continues, grinning all the while
as everyone dances, leaping and twirling in the air.
No one disturbs the dancers, for if they did,
they would be enticed into dancing as well, forever.
There would be no return, as other dancers would tell.
And so, on and on goes the dance, and all the while
The pale, ghostly moon resides over them all.
The song has woven among every figure now,
with strands of Sorrow, and Joy, and even Love.
New friends are made, yet words are a thing forgotten.
But then, suddenly, there comes a cry of warning.
The Song slows, and figures slowly stop and
begin to shuffle back towards their lowly homes.
For there is the bright Sun, peeking its head
up and over the mountains, finger-like rays of light
reaching and greedily turning all back into soil.
For now it is daytime, and during the day
the Danse Macabre cannot be, not until night,
At full moon, on the night when skeletons
walk and dance as they did in life.

Moonnight

Still as an unused tomb,

not even a whisper or a sigh.

Like the moment before a storm,

when animals are silent and hidden,

and the clouds prowl like hungry wolves.

There is a scent of cool remembrance,

an icy sliver woven between warmer air.

A single breath, and small clouds are born,

drifting up and away forever,

lifespan eternal yet so short.

Twin pools shine for a moment and

then are hidden once more from sight.

Silver threads snake across the land,

exposing hidden things and casting shadows.

A lonely note rises into the freezing expanse,

hovering about and chilling to the bone.

Steampunked Clock

I don't know if I ever posted a picture of this, but it's my old wall clock, which I Steampunked for fun one day...