It’s one of those days … I know this too shall pass and so, I am not going to dwell on it, but, you know, something happens, someone says something, you see something, and suddenly comes all over again that “poor me” energy where it feels like your life story bears too striking a resemblance to the story of the Wicked Witch of the West BEFORE WICKED came out and everyone knew the back-story.
Someone has to be the bad guy. I made choices and one of them was NOT to tell any back-stories. I would be lying if I did not confess that my (turns out) foolish assumption was that most people who mattered to me would not require explanations, would know me well enough to know my heart and my soul, and would –
Doesn’t matter. I melted. Done. And I cannot be defined by those who would see me/make me dark – and I cannot keep waiting for apologies that are never going to come and I am never going to be – STOP – Listen:
Julia Murney. Genius.
So, yeah, some days … every now and then … news of a Flying Monkey freed by spells I cast and curses I fought off manages to cross the moat and invade the castle walls behind which I hide, and I am left feeling –
So, I found the tattoo I want – here it is – on model Mikkel Jensen. I want the wings, only, on my back, and that thing in the center of them – I want it altered to look like the hour glass that the Wicked Witch turns over in the Wizard of Oz film when she’s holding Dorothy and ready to kill her for the shoes.
That’s right … I’ve finally figured it out – I want an hour glass with wings that span all the way across my back.
I’m not that man, and I’m never going to fly, and as Elphaba said in the sequel; “I’m never sorry I freed the Flying Monkeys from the curse and I did what I did, agreed to take the rap for the greater good; it was what I had to do to be free; but still, some days, what Chistery did then? Chistery? Damn. You know? Some days.”
Defying morality, more like. And sanity. Okay. Gym time. Gotta try to run this off. I’m going to stay on the cardio machines until this feeling is gone or my cardio finally gives out. No service, remember. I’m donated to science. There’s a research project.