To Ship Or Not To Ship

To ship or not to ship, that is the question:
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to stay the present course of friendship,
Or to act upon lustful desires,
And risk ending it. To ship: to kiss,
A lot; and by a kiss to say we end
The comfort and the thousand inside jokes
That friends are heir to, 'tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wish'd. To ship, to kiss,
To kiss; perchance to love. Ay, there's the rub;
For in that moment's pleasure what love may come,
When we have shuffled off this friendship bond
Must give us pause - there's the respect
That makes calamity of platonic relationships.
For who would bear the whips and scourns of solitude,
The single's awareness, the proud man's uneXpressed feelings,
The pangs of no love, the end's delay,
The insolence of office, and the spurns
That patient merit of the unhappy takes,
When he himself might his lonliness end
With a simple kiss? Who would bitterness bear,
To grunt and sweat under a meaningless life,
But that the dread of something after a kiss,
The undiscovered country from whose land
No travellers return, puzzles the will,
And makes us rather suffer in silence
Than fly to situations unknown.
'Tis true: Shipping makes soap operas of us all,
And, thus, the familiar territory of friendship
Is the choice made
With thoughts and feelings suppressed,
With focus on what's important:
With focus on the future.

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