camicazy

the witches of eastwick

a heart with a devil's tail. it was dark. hundreds of
people sat and watched the lights of the heart change, from
red to green to blue to yellow to white. stars came out.
comets. the orchestra began to play. the music rose while
comets sped by. they were fast. they were happy. they were
beautiful.

i felt like weeping while i watched...while i listened to
every string...every note played with passion. it was so
beautiful. so beautiful.

'i would ask the moon if i thought the moon would care...'

the witches of eastwick. the latest broadway sensation that
has hit melbourne. it was crude, it was sexual, it was
funny.

yet there were words that hit me. words that stayed on my
mind. in the midst of guys pretending to masturbate and
girls acting like they've just had an orgasm, i remember
the words that somehow ring true.

'make him handsome like the devil, yet perfectly divine.'

three girls made that wish one stormy night. they were sick
and tired of being second fiddle. they were sick and tired
of plain nerdy looking men in their little town called
eastwick.

don't all girls just want that? someone handsome, sexy, and
dangerous. yet they want him to be nice, loving, gentle.
divine.

it struck me...maybe because it was somehow contradicting.
the world, i find, is filled with contradictions. some
people like contradictions. they hate it that the rich gets
richer but when they themselves become rich, they just love
it when they keep getting richer and could hardly care
about the others 'down there'.

'in the morning she's a saint. at night just watch her
fall.'

women with secrets. they act proper when they're out. they
act like angels filled with decency and purity. and yet,
when it's all dark, when nobody's looking at them, they
fall and dance with the devil.

girls like bernadette. in front of nelson, she's nice,
peace-loving and completely decent. perhaps quite smart
too. but when nelson's not around, she's a girl who calls
people names, who dreams of fucking him, who thinks of ways
to seduce him.

'revel in the ecstasy, the artistry, the mysteries of
you...'

so much beauty in each and every one of us. yet we are too
blind to see them. that or we refuse to look at them.

we remember every mistake, every hurtful word, every
annoying thing about a person. yet we don't remember every
smile, every encouraging word, every good thing that a
person has done to lift us up.

do something nice and you'll hear it once. do something bad
and you'll hear it forever.

the witches of eastwick. so vulgar. yet...it touched me.
chee...i sound like a sentimental corndog now. ick.

'look at me...i am the music...'

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