by J.R. Gudeon. @j.r.__gudeon
FAIR VERONA, ITALY – Hi, I’m a Shakespeare character, and while I’d steal, deceive, and even die for love, I will not stand for asking basic questions that could prevent all-out catastrophe.
I am a busy teenaged man. To insinuate that I have enough time to raise my hand a few inches above my head is to belittle how much I’m going through right now. I’m swashbuckling. I’m lying. I’m repressing my vomit at the sight of women my own age. I don’t have time for dumb questions, much less ones that could save my life and the lives of the people I care about.
Besides, I’m too far into fighting this battle to tell anyone I don’t understand what’s going on. If I ask about it now, everyone will find out that I’ve been pretending to know the details of the situation, and that’s just too embarrassing. I might feel encouraged to speak up, though, if someone else asked a question first.
Now that I think about it, I can’t recall anyone ever actually saying what started all this fighting in the first place. Well, that seems like an important detail! Someone should ask about it. But not me. Oh, definitely not me.
Everyone must be so lonely. We might hate each other, but we’re all in the dark about the origins of this feud our ancestors handed us. Would it be so bad if we all came together and admitted our need for clarity? Shoot! I didn’t mean to ask that out loud. Can we pretend that never happened? Dammit.
Well, I’m all riled up now. Thanks a lot! I’ll need to calm my nerves somehow – this random glass vial looks like it’s filled with something soothing. Yes, I think this will do the trick. No, I don’t want to ‘take a beat’ to make sure what’s inside is safe. What a stupid question.