Organs fill my ears as I wake up
amidst another day of life. The music brings me to rise, as I revel in its dark
loveliness, the epitome of death, which seems so beautiful. He is so beautiful.
My Mr. T. My Sweeney Todd. They may tell
me that he is not mine, that he is not real. But who are they? How dare they
defy me. As Machiavelli once said, it is better to be feared than love. They
may fear me, but I do not care. I am already loved enough by the man that means
everything. That IS everything. He is Sweeney Todd, and I am Miss Lovett.
Mrs.
Lovett was the past, I am Miss Lovett, the perfect reincarnation. I never
believed in reincarnation until I had a vision. Some may refer to it as a
fanciful dream, but it was a vision, I’m sure. Sweeney Todd, the demon barber
of Fleet Street, came to me at midnight and bid me come with him. As soon as he
was to slit my throat with his wonderfully engraved razor I snapped awake, but
not in fear. The look in his eyes was nothing but pure love. Twisted, sick, magical
love that I wanted and had for him so badly. We were truly caught in a bad
romance, and that, made me satisfied.
Tim
Burton’s 2007 film of Sweeney Todd: the Demon Barber of Fleet Street starring
Johnny Depp and Helena Bonham Carter became the sun, and I was in its orbit. I
learned everything there was to learn about Sweeney Todd and his bloody
accomplice. Every morning I wrote their address, 186 Fleet Street, on the
inside of my wrists. In school, I lost my attention span. I spent hours in
Algebra doodling little caricatures of me and Sweeney holding hands on the
ocean shore. Nothing mattered anymore. Some would call it obsession,
infatuation. I call it destiny.
Back
then, I was merely twelve, and all my crimes were those of foolishness. Now I
have considerable time on my hands and the voice and pure perfection of Sweeney
Todd deserves to be heard. At best he is an angel, at worst a demon. In heaven,
let the angel sing, in hell let the demon ring.
The
movie sleeps underneath my bed, and the soundtrack is on my iPod, and I am
persistent in it always being with me. Without it I feel that there is a vat in
my soul that is missing. A part of my heart is never complete without him.
Poems
and poems can be found about him, perhaps I shall publish some of them. There
is a boy involved. Poor child. The fated encompassment of all I’ve ever dreamed
of. Of all I’ve ever wished for.
HAVE YET TO COME UP WITH A TITLE! ;)
