When Worlds Combine - A WWC Sequel

48; Shakespeare, shots, and bar fights

Zayn

"The thing with Shakespeare that we all commonly disregard is his ingenuity with comedy. Shakespeare aimed to be funny, whether telling a love story or a tale of conflict and power. Now, I know this doesn't appear to be so when we read his work, but indeed the underlying theme is humour."

"And in fact, Shakespeare somewhat invented this skill. Not humour, he was not a comedian, but he brought to light the idea of finding a sense of irony, if you will, in a situation. I'm sure you have all experienced this whether it be more than once, or simply just once, throughout your lives. You will learn that things should not be taken as seriously as you take them to be."

My eyes were heavy with sleep, my head resting on my desk. I wasn't listening to our Professor, I simply couldn't give a damn about what he had to say. Emma wasn't even in the lecture today, which made everything all the more lame. I was over it. I was over everything.

"So I want you to all go away with that thought in mind. I'll see you tomorrow."

Finally. I pack up my things and shuffle through the other students and get the hell out of the lecture room. Never had I been so willing to just escape. I wasn't working tonight, I had called in saying I was sick. I wasn't, at least not physically. Mentally? Probably. I was looking forward to just jumping into my bed and sleeping for the rest of my life.

I had come back from Bradford early Sunday morning. I could tell my family didn't want me to leave, but not for their own purposes. They didn't want me to stay because they enjoyed my company so much, no. They wanted me to stay because they feared for their lives that the second I left their supervision I'd, like, commit suicide or something.

They had explained to me what I had supposedly done the morning I came home from spending the night with Rico and Allie. I didn't remember saying any of what they told me I had said, but I also didn't deny it. I felt shitty; I wasn't going to cover that up. Not with my family. But they were worried, insanely, about me suddenly being suicidal. So much so that they put me on some nutcase watch thing, treating me like a mental kid. I suppose I was, really.

The thing was, although I didn't remember saying it, I feel it. And I associate with it. Because it is very, very real. I would never do it, hell, I love myself too much. Plus, I'm way too much of a pussy. But that does not hide the numb feeling I indeed have.

Because it is very real. It's a very real feeling. The feeling of wanting to die. I walk around like I am a ghost, like I am simply a shell of who I once used to be. I am miserable, and although I smile, the pain resides in my eyes. It seems crazy to think that all this happened just because I broke up with my girlfriend. But, I guess there's always more than that to a story. And there is. Of course there is. Because 1) Violet was not just my girlfriend. And 2) we did not just break up.

And I think Shakespeare was an ass (okay, so I was semi listening). Because what kind of dick finds irony and humour in a serious situation? There's a time and a place for a laugh, buddy. Know your limits. But Shakespeare was fucked up, everyone knew he was fucked up. Still didn't stop him from being the most legendary writer, like, ever.

Now that's ironic.

The best literature always comes from the most fucked up people. Why is it that we're drawn to the sadistic thoughts of others? I guess because it makes ourselves seem better.