Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let's cut your hair!!

There she is, sitting by the window of her flat at the top of that golden sky scraper.
Clouds, clouds, clouds, more clouds..
Somehow, Rapunzel wishes to see a dove flying towards her with a little note tied on its foot. A note of love from the Prince.
But there's none, only clouds, clouds, clouds and more clouds.


"I know he will come over to visit me. He'll cling on to my long, long hair to get here."
Wishful thinking.

"I'm giving him 7 days. If he won't be here, I'll cut my hair and I'll never grow it this long ever
again."
A threat.

"But.. I really want to see him.. If I cut my hair, that will never be possible.."
Backing out.

"Who cares?! That's his loss if he won't come over. I'll still be me, with my hair cut shorter!"
Denial of the truth.

"I'm tired.. I can't wait any longer.. It's been a long time now, I'll do this soon anyway. Let me do this now."
The surrender.

(It's the same line of thought that runs through my head right now...)