This post is about – you guessed it – Romeo and Juliet.
Shakespeare is, according to many literary nerds and people who’ve never even read any of his works, a genius. So they say, anyway. Others say he didn’t even really write his plays and yada yada, but I don’t really want to delve into that right now.
I, myself, have never read any Shakespeare, nor seen any film based upon a Shakespearean script, but I do know the general story – two kids fall “in love”, they’re from opposing families who hate each other (not just in the you-TP’d-my-lawn type of neighbor hate, not just the you-purposely-ran-your-car-into-my-car type of neighbor hate, but the when-I-see-you-I’m-going-to-pull-out-my-sword-and-run-you-through type of neighbor hate), there’s some violence, they make some love, they kill themselves.
WHAT TYPE OF SENSE DOES THAT MAKE.
Maybe I don’t understand because I have yet to read Shakespeare, or maybe I’m just not cultured enough. In any case, we’re beginning it as an in-class reading in my English class, so I suppose this post can be considered a preface.
I will reaffirm or renounce this post when we finish.
Until then, adieu.
(P.S. I DIDN’T MAKE THE DANCE TEAM AT MY SCHOOL FEEL FREE TO CRY FOR ME.)