If I could meet one person living or dead, I would meet Vincent Van Gogh and ask him to paint my portrait. It would be an incredible honour, that's for sure, but mostly I just want to see what he sees. Would he paint my sorrow? Would his heart see the heaviness of mine? Or maybe he would see my joy. The part of me that radiates. My light. Perhaps he would see something in me that is yet unknown to myself.
Or maybe he would tell me to go fuck myself and to pass him another shot of absinthe. Yes, probably that.
I have dark blonde hair but I've always found myself in want of it
being orange or red. I adore the fieriness of the colour, found it sexy
and intriguing. I imagine my life with a crimson mop as more exciting
and maybe dangerous (as if I could have been a spy were I born with one
more "genetic flaw"). I've always had a secret red-headed desire, but
after thoroughly considering the subject I suspect I wouldn't truly
appreciate it were I to have it. Think of a red-head in your life. How
many times have you heard them bemoan the redness their hair? Or maybe
you yourself have thick curly hair and have always wished for it to be
straight, but your friend with the seemingly perfect, thin hair (that
appears to not deviate a single strand) just wishes hers would hold a
curl even once. I, for instance, know a girl who has the most gorgeous
and natural strawberry blonde locks but has spent every day of her adult
life with it dyed almost every colour of the rainbow. I would murder
puppies (sorry puppies) for hair her natural colour and yet here she's
been wanting anything but since she was a child.
The long and
the short of it is that we always want what we don't or can't
have...it's a universal truth. So I say I want a head of violently ruby
hair, but if I was magically granted it today I'd probably wish for a
return to my dark blonde. Maybe we should just spend more time
appreciating what we have and our lives the way they are instead of
wishing for something else. We'd almost definitely be happier.
If only lust could be thwarted by common sense. Ah well.