I’m breaking up with you. From now on, you’re just another human being I’m related to, not my poor pitiful long-suffering mother or personal cross to bear or anything else that resembles a shadowstep in the waltz of recursive martyrdom you try and bully me into dancing with you, just because I’m your daughter.
65 by William Shakespeare
Since brass, nor stone, nor earth, nor boundless sea,
But sad mortality o’ersways their power,
How with this rage shall beauty hold a plea,
Whose action is no stronger than a flower?
O! how shall summer’s honey breath hold out
Against the wrackful siege of battering days,
When rocks impregnable are not so stout,
Nor gates of steel so strong, but Time decays?
O fearful meditation! where, alack,
Shall Time’s best jewel from Time’s chest lie hid?
Or what strong hand can hold his swift foot back?
Or who his spoil of beauty can forbid?
O! none, unless this miracle have might,
That in black ink my love may still shine bright.
Why don’t I read Faster Than Kudzu every day? Because then I would know this already. Sheesh. I need to pay more attention.
