#improbablydroppingout

[becsandbare]

My true thoughts on reality and fiction

So we had to write an essay assessing the difference (and if it even existed) between fiction and reality in the context of Hamlet’s speech in 2.2, by Shakespeare. Its already past due and this is where I’m at;

The difference between fiction and reality is that they both suck. Reality is just a constant state of being shitty, therefore it gradually becomes so intense that you become numb to all the bullshit, yet it still fucking hurts. Fiction, as I may argue is even fucking worse. It provides a temporary sanctuary from the catastrophic chaos of life but immediately after the spell of representation is over, you are immediately sucked back into the world of pain and torture. While one is a constant pain, the other acts in throbs of torture. Fiction is the epitome of procrastination leading to destruction, while reality is the epitome of relentless agony.

note: I don’t Shakespeare, nor Hamlet- actually I think both dudes are great. I’m just too deep in one of my depressive episodes to think of this question any differently.