Pardon the extraordinarily long title; it is (if you don’t recognise it) from a Mumford and Sons song, Roll Away Your Stone. If you haven’t listened to it yet, I really think you should, because the lyrics are ambiguous but beautiful, more like poetry really. They’re written in iambic pentameter (nerrrrrd!) and have a Macbeth reference in there… that’s what I like to hear!
I’m trying to get back into the normal swing of things, but obviously things are a little crazy here in Megan-ville, so instead of writing something meaningful I think I’ll write about…tattoos!
Tattoos are baad. They’re for bikers and bad girls and general commoners. Celebrities glamourize tattoo-ing their other half’s name upon their body (I always wonder why they don’t have a list as long as they’re arm, each one crossed out every time they break up.) Your middle class parents think they’re crass and tacky, and if you dreamt of bringing home a boy with sleeves of naked girls and sailors he’d be out of the door before you can say “tramp stamp.” Therefore, they’re the obvious choice of rebellion for this teenage rebellll!
I have given this quite a good deal of thought (as I’m studying for my GCSE’s and obviously have a lot of time on my hands…? Idiot!) and after choosing and then rejecting barbed wire inked around my upper thigh (two words. Cheryl. Cole. It’s out.) I have settled on a short shortlist (is that possible?) of possible tattoo choices.
1. The Vitruvian Man
I am an immense fan of Da Vinci and I have done a rather pathetic amount of research on the Golden Ratio, so this means quite a lot to me and represents my love of both art, history and conspiracies. Also, I think it would be kind of cool to have a naked guy with his junk out tattooed on my butt-cheek.
2. Irish Serpent Knot
I love everything that this stands for - love that reflects the eternity of life, loyalty towards the person one loves, and the four sections representing the four seasons.
Or maybe both? In the words of Mrs Charleton, who knows???