Shakespeare Blog Entry #3

So I realised I’ve done what I did last semester and named the blogs with the wrong week order, confusing myself yet again. So I’m going back to just numbering them as “Entry #X” I’ve also realised i have fallen behind on my critiques, this will be getting fixed this week.

Enough of the stuff ups, let’s get to this weeks topic which seems like a fun one!

“1/ You are Bottom. In your own words tell the world what you are like, how you like performing, directing and…. encountering the queen of fairies”

I am Bottom. I am the greatest Actor in the lands, but of course, you already know this. I am capable of any role that comes my way, Lover or Fighter I shall encompass the role whole heartily! Whether it be a lover like Pyramus or a sweet lady like Pyramus’s lover Thisbe. I shall encompass the character so much so you shall forget who I ever once was…but just to make sure you don’t we should tell our audience, I wouldn’t want anyone thinking that I am Pyramus or Thisbee, as I do not want to worry any onlookers of any tragedy that may occur to Pyramus or Thisbee. Perhaps Before I begin my lines I should let the audience know that I am not Pyramus, I am Bottom? Yes! That will be a fantastic idea!


American Literature – Blog #3

This week I’m going to try and give writing a poem like Emily Dickinson a try. It’ll probably fail horribly but eh its worth a shot. Going to say this is not about me I’m actually thinking of a specific character in mind while writing this, bonus points if you can guess who it is before hitting the last line.

I cannot live with you –
This feeling always persistent.
A once glistening light =
engulfed by perpetual darkness-

A Man broke down –
or perhaps – a Boy.
The glint in his eye –
long since gone –

Self Medicated, Self-destruction –
On edge –
Living through others –
is his last hope.

The only one he trusts –
a nervous wreck.
Yet he still finds comfort-
within his neurotic stupidity.

When it reaches a conclusion –
may be a while yet –
one thing is certain –
It’s all Jerrys fault.

Obviously much shorter than Emily Dickinson’s original poem as I am nowhere near as good. The amount of effort she must have put into her poetry is outstanding, especially to only see so little of her work published while being alive. I like her dark style so I wanted to use that to make a little joke that I’m sure most people around my age will get, because hey, some of the funniest humour comes from dark places.

Blog entry #7 Week 9.

For this post, I decided to “Describe a moment in your life where, like Marner you have been horrified, shocked by the loss of something that has been desperately dear to you. (In Marner’s case it was his gold)” since I have been recently thinking a lot about the subject of lose.

November 2nd, 2015 to most people will just be another blip in our past, most of us probably have no idea what we were doing or where we were that day. For me that day will never be forgotten, I mean, how could it? How could I possibly forget the day where I was woken up by a phone call saying “Alex..Alex died..”? After a 2-minute car ride that felt like an eternity, I was assured that this was not some terrible practical joke to get me to come over to Alex’s. As I walked through the white squeaky gate leading into the outdoor space we had spent countless nights drunkenly arguing who would win in hypothetical fights, my personal favourite was The island from Shutter Island vs the Island from Lost, any sort of hope in that the call was a prank quickly drained out of me. In front of me sat three of my closest friends, each one with their head bowed in anguish, only looking up briefly to give me a unwelcoming hug. The weight of the situation didn’t fully hit me until Alex’s parents came outside, Steve (Alex’s Dad) holding a weeping Jocelyn (Alex’s mum) in his arms, tears running down both of their cheeks. Immediately they came over to me and embraced me in a long hug. It felt like the final nail in the coffin, this wasn’t an elaborate prank, Alex was gone.

Alex enjoying what I think was a brownie.

I had known Alex since I was 16, he was one of the funniest, most loving and caring people I ever met. He was extremely intelligent, had a knack for knowing exactly what to say and was wise beyond his years. He introduced me to Smash Brothers Melee and took his time to teach me everything he knew about the games detailed mechanics, it’s intricate metagame and would sit up at ungodly hours of the night just to watch overseas tournaments with me. He was practically my 4th unofficial roommate, and honestly, the house felt empty if he wasn’t around. He had so much passion for life despite his difficulties and was always there to give a helping hand or to make you laugh when you were down. He was truly one of my best friends and I could never thank him enough for being in my life. I’m not a religious person but I do hope he is somewhere better, and I hope I’ll get to see him again one day.

It was the last match we ever played, Marth vs Peach on Final Destination. I guess it is fitting. The situation still hasn’t sunk completely in yet and I’m still wishing this was a shitty dream. – I posted this on his facebook wall on November 8, Marth and Princess Peach where our two main characters of choice in Melee, him being the Black Marth and me being the White Peach.

From my experience, I want to encourage everyone who reads this to stop and let those who really matter to you know right now. Even if it’s just a text message, let them know you care about them. You never know when your time or anyone else’s will be up, so make the most of it while you can, try new things and follow your dreams. Don’t wait for someone to tell you how to live your life, just go out and do it.


I miss you Alex, not a day goes by where I don’t have some sort of thought of you in my mind. Keep on Bopping dude.

Blog Post – Creative Q2.

I decided to write this piece as if it were to be a moment in the book instead of being a direct 1st person view of Mr. Knightly responding to the news that Harriet has fallen in love with him. Personally, I think Mr Knightly would respond pretty calmly if given this information. If you find any spelling mistakes and what not let me know in the comments and ill be sure to fix it up. Cheers.

Emma made her way to the study, the echo of her footsteps ringing throughout the empty hallway as she approached the sturdy wooden door and swung it open to find Mr. Knightly reading through an old leather bound book she had left out. Mr. Knightly glanced up from his reading with a hint of surprise on his face.
           “Emma, how do you do? I was under the impression that you would be out with Mrs. Smith this afternoon.” Mr. Knightly lowered the book “Hmm, I never did have a chance to read Hamlet before but I must say it has caught my eye.”
            Emma, still flustered from her meeting with Harriet walked over to Mr. Knightly and delicately took the book from his hand as to not damage it. “I’ll have you know that Hamlet is one of my most cherished pieces in this library.” Emma closed the book and gently placed it down on her father’s desk. “I was indeed with Harriet this afternoon, and I would still be with Harriet at this moment if she had not needed to head into town to pick up some more ribbon.”
            “Is that so?” Mr. Weston now standing walked over to Emma, studying her face with a quizzical look in his eye.
            “It is so.” Emma replied with little to no emotion in her voice.
“Then please forgive my intrusion my dear Emma but from the manner in which you entered I do believe there is more to what you are telling me.” Mr. Weston locked eyes with Emma, he knew when Emma was keeping secrets from him, he had known her since she was just a girl and had grown quite accustomed to her mannerisms over time. Emma felt Mr. Knightley’s gaze examining her. While she may be able to hide her true feelings from her father Emma thought, Mr. Knightley’s keen eye could sense when something was wrong. Emma sunk her shoulders in defeat.
“Mr. Knightly I have made a terrible mistake, I know I have been warned by not only you but my papa.” Emma slowly turned to peer out the study window, the weather had turned from a sunny afternoon to a dark cloudy scene, fitting that the weather should happen to echo the situation, Emma thought to herself as she studied the dark clouds slowly drifting by. “I believed Harriet to have been in love with Mr. Frank Churchill, I believed it to be so true as to already begin thinking it a match..”
Mr. Knightly remained silent, he could sense that Emma was yet to tell him the brunt of the blow.
Emma turned to face Mr. Knightly, frustration written across her face “But it is not Mr. Frank Churchill who her heart longs for.”
“Then who is it that heart longs for Emma?” Mr. Knightly asked calmly, although he had summarized by Emma’s presence that he himself would be the answer.
“It is you Mr. Knightly, Harriet Smith’s heart longs for you.” Emma scrunched her hand into her dress, a wave of emotion crashed over Emma, she had never felt this way. I was to never to marry Emma thought, yet if I truly believed this then why has Harriet’s revelation of wishing the marry Mr. Knightly causing so much anguish inside? Could it be that there was some validity, some form of truth to Harriet’s perceived notions of Mr. Knightley’s kindness towards her? The room remained silent for a minute as Mr. Knightly gathered the book from Mr. Woodhouses’ desk and returned to the chair in which he had been once Emma arrived.
“She Is a fine creature.” The calmness of Mr. Knightly’s voice cut through the silence. “However Mrs. Smith did not become that way of her own accord, and while it is true that I have grown more fond of her over the time she has spent with you Emma I must say it is most in due to her being such a close acquaintance to yourself.”
Emma looked up at Mr. Knightly, her fists now unclenched as she tried to flatten out the wrinkles she had so foolishly created.
“While she is a fine creature, I have no intention of making her my wife Emma. I have said it before that her equal lies within Mr. Martin.” Mr. Knightly opened the book to the page he was part way through reading. “Ah Emma, I do believe your father was calling for your whereabouts earlier, do see to him.”
Emma decided not to question Mr. Knightly, she knew that his word was his word, and with that left him to his reading and went to her father.

P.S. Why is formatting on WordPress wonky :s?