Death, thou shalt die

Just read some online guide to the University play i just watched. I realised as much as I did thoroughly enjoyed myself, i thought the release the guide suggested, which would also be consistent with John Donne's sonnets involvement in it did not really come through. The protangonist's did not seem to come to terms with her own death, well at least, not in my perspective. Death though, seemed more like a final release to her suffering. Nevertheless, I thought the play was absolutely superb. I found it really really clever.

Way better than the last one I watched. I think Ellen cried a bit when I put my arm around her shoulder and gave her a pat. Well, she denied it, but I'm guessing she was more than sniffing.

Ohh, come to think of it, tonight was a night of criers, the second round of weeping though was outside a pub for an entirely different reason. It's a bit of a shame I did not get to go out, but no harm, would rather be with a mate feeling rough than off galivanting I guess. Shame nonetheless that I wasn't out on my first St Patrick's day. AND OH YAR, this post was meant to be a whine about how I think there's a dearth of ppl I can have conversations over pretentious things with. Most ppl would think it is lar, but my point is:

it's nice if you can talk cock, it's nicer if you can talk deep, but on occasion, it's nice to have some ppl to talk clever with.