An Ostrich Gets Her Wings

Listen to me Sweetcheeks. This old bird has a few things to tell you. Times have changed. You might remember from several years ago that I left my life of flinging flapjacks and topping off coffee for old dudes who would slap my ass and tell me I had a pretty mouth and drove west to let my tits fly free at the ocean. I made it, and even though it was hard and I have some haters now, it was the best thing I’ve ever done. I was sitting on the toilet this morning, having a slight panic attack at how long I was peeing, wondering if my roommates would eventually find my pile of withered skin once I had somehow drained every liquid in my ostrich body but eventually snapped out of it and had an epiphany.

You can be whoever your hot little heart desires. You don’t have to be one thing. You can be a bad bitch riding a motorcycle, ciggy hanging from your lips and a cute unicorn backpack. You can also be salty and sweet. You can create things that are opposite of each other. You can write sappy romance AND spicy humor. You can be the Mad Hatter and the CEO. You can be a sexy siren AND a mysterious hag. You can be something different everyday and for god's sake stop worrying about fitting into a niche. Be the Niche. Be a vibe, as the kids say today. You definitely don’t have to go with The Flow. To be honest, The Flow is boring. Find YOUR FLOW, whatever that is. We’re all hurdling toward death. I’m not trying to be morbid but it’s the damn truth. None of us knows what time we have left here and you have a wicked genius hiding in you that is yours alone. Why not let it come out and play? Be who you want. Change it up as much as you want. Fuck that box. Light that bitch on fire. I dare you to break the mold. You have permission to wear whatever saucy hat you want at any given time.

I think it was probably a man who made the box anyway. If there’s one thing I’ve learned in all my ostrich years is that you don’t owe consistency to anyone. Not in the way that you might think. Now, loyalty is a whole other matter.

Another thing about creativity is that life has given you a whole damn bucket of material. I like to think of loyalty as contractual. You respect me and I’ll respect you. But there are a whole slew of motherfuckers running around like clowns who think people will keep their secrets for the sake of loyalty and some unwritten code that we don’t share their secrets. There is change on the wind, my child. That is yours to create with. Because when they never made amends and left you hanging, they made the loyalty contract null and void. NULL AND VOID, I say.

Listen, Dollface. You gotta let that shit go. And the best way to do it is to take that mud and fling it on a page. Get that shit into the light of day. You might actually find that you’re not alone. You might end up making someone else feel less alone. Who knows? Tell your damn story. Make it a game. Stop being so nice. We all know you’re a trickster at heart and you don’t owe anyone “good.” Use everything you got.

Take it from me, not everyone will know what to say when you spill your secrets. It’s still a New Thing to be so bold, but someone has to go first and you’re unlocking a possibility for others who are watching. Everything will catch up eventually and then we can have a big barbeque party and dance to Hits from the Eighties.

You know that saying about fairies getting their wings? I’m too old to remember it now. I can’t even remember where I left my orange tutu, but the point is that every time you share your story, an ostrich gets her wings.

Yours Forever Unless you Cross Me,

Myrtle the Ostrich