Nay, answer me.

I wrote this already.

Then I forgot about it.

It was terrible, really truly.

My second day in to the project and

Bump bump bump down the road of textual investigation,

I discovered it wasn’t going to be good every time.

Or even every other time.

Or ever.

But

I realized I’d forgotten to type up this line, in the flurry of typing and copying and transferring.

I searched for it in all the old journals –

Finding the right month

Then the words, hiding between other thoughts.

The second line of the play is a power struggle.

The second line has also become a struggle of art.
Can I let that old bit sit there?

Can I send these paltry words out into the world

With no blanket

No context

No skeleton?

Just little slugs of words

Not even snails with a house to hide in.

Nay, nay, no. I deny you. I refuse you.

No. The answer to who I may be is nay.

Who are you to demand who I am?

I won’t be questioned.

Nay An – a sound to be answered

Ser Me – To be – me.

Nay, answer me. Me. Answer. Me.

The Hamlet Project