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Saturday, December 4, 2010
Thursday, December 2, 2010
Getting Away With Murder By Papa Roach
Somewhere beyond hapiness and sadness
I need to calculate what creates my own madness
And I'm addicted to your punishment
And your the master, and I am waiting for disaster
I feel irrational, so confrontational
To tell the truth I am getting away with murder
It is impossible to never tell the truth
But the reality is I'm getting away with murder
Getting away, getting away, getting away
I drink my drink and I don't even want to
I think my thoughts when I don't even need to
I never look back cause I don't even want to
And I dont need to, because I'm getting away with murder
I feel irrational, so confrontational
To tell the truth I am getting away with murder
It is impossible to never tell the truth
But the reality is I'm getting away with murder
Getting away, getting away, getting away
Getting away, getting away, getting away
Getting away, getting away, getting away
Murder
Somewhere beyond hapiness and sadness
I need to calculate what creates my own madness
And I'm addicted to your punishments
And I'm your master, and I am craving this disaster
I feel irrational, so confrontational
To tell the truth I am getting away with murder
It is impossible to never tell the truth
But the reality is I'm getting away with murder
Getting away, getting away, getting away
I feel irrational, so confrontational
To tell the truth I am getting away with murder
It is impossible to never tell the truth
But the reality is I'm getting away with murder
-I chose this song because it deals with gettting away with murder. As for me Macbeth King of Scottland, I got away with murders. I craved being the King so any threats out there I punished them with death.
I need to calculate what creates my own madness
And I'm addicted to your punishment
And your the master, and I am waiting for disaster
I feel irrational, so confrontational
To tell the truth I am getting away with murder
It is impossible to never tell the truth
But the reality is I'm getting away with murder
Getting away, getting away, getting away
I drink my drink and I don't even want to
I think my thoughts when I don't even need to
I never look back cause I don't even want to
And I dont need to, because I'm getting away with murder
I feel irrational, so confrontational
To tell the truth I am getting away with murder
It is impossible to never tell the truth
But the reality is I'm getting away with murder
Getting away, getting away, getting away
Getting away, getting away, getting away
Getting away, getting away, getting away
Murder
Somewhere beyond hapiness and sadness
I need to calculate what creates my own madness
And I'm addicted to your punishments
And I'm your master, and I am craving this disaster
I feel irrational, so confrontational
To tell the truth I am getting away with murder
It is impossible to never tell the truth
But the reality is I'm getting away with murder
Getting away, getting away, getting away
I feel irrational, so confrontational
To tell the truth I am getting away with murder
It is impossible to never tell the truth
But the reality is I'm getting away with murder
-I chose this song because it deals with gettting away with murder. As for me Macbeth King of Scottland, I got away with murders. I craved being the King so any threats out there I punished them with death.
Wednesday, December 1, 2010
Act 5, scene 5, lines 16–27
She should have died hereafter.
There would have been a time for such a word.
Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day
To the last syllable of recorded time.
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle.
Life’s but a walking shadow, a poor player
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage,
And then is heard no more. It is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing.
-My love one Lady Macbeth has passed away. My power seems to be coming to an end when my loved one had died. I soon started to realize whats the purpose in life without her, Lady Macbeth.
There would have been a time for such a word.
Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day
To the last syllable of recorded time.
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle.
Life’s but a walking shadow, a poor player
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage,
And then is heard no more. It is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing.
-My love one Lady Macbeth has passed away. My power seems to be coming to an end when my loved one had died. I soon started to realize whats the purpose in life without her, Lady Macbeth.
Act 2, scene 2, lines 55–61
Whence is that knocking?—
How is’t with me, when every noise appals me?
What hands are here! Ha, they pluck out mine eyes.
Will all great Neptune’s ocean wash this blood
Clean from my hand? No, this my hand will rather
The multitudinous seas incarnadine,
Making the green one red.
-As I murdered Duncan for the throne of Scottland, it wasnt what i expected it to be. The blood from Duncan has made me have the feel of guilt. This guilt is stuck with me till my death and I cant take back what i had done.
How is’t with me, when every noise appals me?
What hands are here! Ha, they pluck out mine eyes.
Will all great Neptune’s ocean wash this blood
Clean from my hand? No, this my hand will rather
The multitudinous seas incarnadine,
Making the green one red.
-As I murdered Duncan for the throne of Scottland, it wasnt what i expected it to be. The blood from Duncan has made me have the feel of guilt. This guilt is stuck with me till my death and I cant take back what i had done.
Act 1 scene 5 lines 36-5
The raven himself is hoarse
That croaks the fatal entrance of Duncan
Under my battlements. Come, you spirits
That tend on mortal thoughts, unsex me here,
And fill me from the crown to the toe top-full
Of direst cruelty. Make thick my blood,
Stop up th’access and passage to remorse,
That no compunctious visitings of nature
Shake my fell purpose, nor keep peace between
Th’ effect and it. Come to my woman’s breasts,
And take my milk for gall, you murd’ring ministers,
Wherever in your sightless substances
You wait on nature’s mischief. Come, thick night,
And pall thee in the dunnest smoke of hell,
That my keen knife see not the wound it makes,
Nor heaven peep through the blanket of the dark,
To cry ‘Hold, hold!’
-Here my wife is talking about here plans to seize the throne for me. She is willing to do whatever it takes and do violence towards Duncan. She is part of the reason why i went forward on gaining the throne by murdering Duncan.
That croaks the fatal entrance of Duncan
Under my battlements. Come, you spirits
That tend on mortal thoughts, unsex me here,
And fill me from the crown to the toe top-full
Of direst cruelty. Make thick my blood,
Stop up th’access and passage to remorse,
That no compunctious visitings of nature
Shake my fell purpose, nor keep peace between
Th’ effect and it. Come to my woman’s breasts,
And take my milk for gall, you murd’ring ministers,
Wherever in your sightless substances
You wait on nature’s mischief. Come, thick night,
And pall thee in the dunnest smoke of hell,
That my keen knife see not the wound it makes,
Nor heaven peep through the blanket of the dark,
To cry ‘Hold, hold!’
-Here my wife is talking about here plans to seize the throne for me. She is willing to do whatever it takes and do violence towards Duncan. She is part of the reason why i went forward on gaining the throne by murdering Duncan.
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