Ever wonder what Hamlet would do if he had an iPhone, or what he’d even use it for? We decided to give Shakespeare a run for his money with a monologue from the Prince of Denmark himself. And don’t worry, you won’t need SparkNotes to make it through.
When I feel as though something is afoot
yet I cannot be present there by her side
to where shall I look? Where should I seek thee?
A rectangular spy glass helps me watch
Uncle turned father posts pictures of her
for the world to see! As though they remain
virtuous and free of their heinous crimes.
Though I collect them; obsessively and
meticulously; saving, storing, and
sorting to prove better my uncle is
the Devil on Earth. Oh his dreadful pose!
The composition! The poor excuse for
natural lighting! My hatred for him
blooms forth each second, every breath I take.
It’s swift, my response–calculated in
its execution. She cannot escape.
“MOTHER!” In all caps. I know she hears me
when the marker points out her cruel neglect
in telling grey font: “read: 13:22.”
Oh! My own Mother! Leaving me alone
and cold. Me! He who spends his precious time
making twitters to distress the duo.
After only four lively hours of
messaging between hero and villain,
like a true coward, he blocks my account.
I fly into rage. I take screenshots that
will show that he was responding to me.
He cannot escape 5 GB of free
storage on the cloud. I have proof
inside my pocket to take with me wherever
I may go. They can't ship me off to
university to get rid of my
protesting! I can text Horatio
every detail, anything at all.
With my device I can keep tabs on the
bird ophelia and her Instagram.
And I turn away; her photos are close
to being as bad as Claudius'.
Does no-one know how to make themselves look
beautiful? At all? Ugly fools surround
me! How am I to increase my number
of followers if I am distorted?
No comments on my post of stabbing dear
Uncle daemon through the curtains. I may
as well lie down and alongside him.
I am desperate for likes. Recognition.
Father, you always turn me to the light
in this bleak world and you must not fail me
today. I ask him, “What should I do now?”
Device buzzes with poor connectivity,
but FaceTime soldiers on in our favor;
“New phone,” he is hoarse. I listen with all
my ears and my heart; of course it is new!
He clears his throat and leans in to the screen:
“Who dis?” I throw my phone, shattering it.
Okay now that you're all done...
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