Lipsticks and Cigarettes

"Honey," she says -

"Again. It's the difficult parts that give you character. Sweet. Bold. Bitter. Beautiful. You walk in rain that's not pure, tainted. You grit your teeth, bleeding. But you hold on. Sometimes people see the ugly sides of you.. it's not all glamorous my dear."

".. Which is funny really, because I'd planned to live my entire life like a vagrant, like a vagabond, to search and hunt and be somewhat disorganized. Not a monkey working the wrench and shredding office papers. I wanted dance-party-decadence-romantic-absurd-smooth-moments-glitter-bareskin-moonlight-oceans-foolish-foolish men."

".. I heard nothing about hard luck, heartbreak. I thought poverty would be romantic. I thought having a sugar daddy would be painless, and empowering. Strokes of envy really. No one told me, until this very night."

".. How can I go home to a dorm full of girls who are.. god knows, simple or really practical. Ones who will marry for the money and list their degrees as just another.. empty achievement? I wonder who there will know that of whatever I know now? I won't see the same me again. In the mirror. Won't. Never. Even now, being young and fresh faced takes hours - foundation, gloss, mascara. effort! And even more to make it necessarily invisible."

".. Someday, someday life will take its toll and my face will sink into a sea of wrinkles, and I'll have to be more than subtle not to get lost. Damn, I won't age gracefully. I can imagine myself chain smoking in a dark lounge, sipping scotch, neat, smoking tobacco. Will I? Especially with lipstick stains on my cigarette?"

"Honey," she says -

"Nothing is forever, but the endless isn't naught. Just don't be too quick to be haughty. It's not fair. I know. It's just life. It's no fairy tale, no miracle story. Don't be afraid my dear - I was just like you. Just like you."

❤ ❤ ❤

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