Hello there, internet.

As people who follow my other networks may have noticed, I once again have internet! This should hopefully mean that I will be updating much more with my writing and thoughts and such again.

My internal debate about writing today was whether I wanted to write letters to people I miss, or whether I wanted to write poetry. I wound up reading instead, but I think that means that one of those two options will likely happen tomorrow.

Long time no type.

Hello, lovelies. Sorry about the long lapse between posts. As anyone who follows my personal social networks knows, I haven't had internet since May 11 - the day we moved into a new house we're renting. We'll in theory get internet at the house on Tuesday.

I haven't had much time to write, even without the internet to distract me. Packing and unpacking, dog getting neutered and then infected, finding out I have the beginnings of carpal tunnel syndrome, having house guests...the world has been busy lately.

But things will settle down soon, and then I'll have more news to share. In the meantime, if anyone has information on human trafficking that they'd be willing to share, shoot me a message!

The Fall of Ophelia

Thou did say that thou loved me once, my lord,
And sent me tokens of devotion pure.
The next thou scoffed and claimed that I had whored,
A slander from thy lips I shant endure.
A harlot I am not, and thou knew this
Before the edges of thy mind were frayed.
Thy mother begged thou share my nuptial kiss,
But thou turned cruel, and she and I dismayed.
Better or worse - thou knows I think no thing,
For all my thoughts are planted there by men.
This double-dealing caused me suffering,
But to refuse? I'd not see day again.
"Thy kind makes monsters," once accused thy voice.
Well unlike us thy kind does have the choice.

O Hamlet, I've just seen my father slain,
His heart torn through with thy so noble sword.
No hope for me in life shall e'er remain -
They think thee mad? I'll show thee mad, my lord.
Rosemary to remember all thy sins,
And pansies for the thoughts I was denied.
I'd send violets to break thy heart within,
But they withered the night my father died.
I will admit, I loved thee once as well
When I had not yet seen what thee became.
A nunnery? Instead I am in hell!
And help thy soul if I should hear thy name.
That I despise is not the strangest thing.
Thou murders and abuses - like the King!

I fall 'neath where the willow gently weeps,
My daisies floating o'er me like a crown.
Through my poor soul the deathly waters creep
And drag me like a stone forever down.
I pray thou sees that thou did kill me too,
The same way that thou killed my father dear.
After all the plights thou has forced me through,
There is no pain for me to linger here.
So who is the poorer now? Thou still lives
To bear the slings of thy atrocities -
The sorts of which no hellish god forgives,
And, even less, avenging Laertes.
Sword and my grave shall not let thee forget.
Woe is thee? No, lord - but it will be yet.

Everything I post until May 10th is going to be about The Great Gatsby.

...That's really the whole point of this post. But, honestly, it's my favorite book, and I'm so excited about the movie I can hardly handle it.

I'm still working on my poetry book and my next novel at the present moment, but they're going to be interrupted a bit by real life taking over, and by my rereading of The Great Gatsby. 

Did you know? Daisy and Gatsby's relationship is somewhat inspired by Zelda Fitzgerald and F. Scott themselves - Zelda originally declined F. Scott's proposal because he was too poor at the time.