Living In A Movie
When pretending is not enough.
I’m a liar. A double-standard wielding charlatan. I judge others without realizing I am them, the audacity. I look at people who adopt an entirely retro lifestyle to the tune of installing a 1960s oven with an analog clock on the front while sporting a Cadillac outside that barely fits in the driveway and drinks enough gas to fill a swimming pool on its way to the grocery store and I think to myself, I could never. Complete commitment to the role? Why?! I can’t fathom relying exclusively on garments that fasten with ancient sticky zippers. Polyester in bubble gum tones wasn’t flattering then and it sure as shit ain’t now. But let someone offer me a nose-to-tail existence that’s straight outta Penny Dreadful and I would strap on a corset and travel exclusively by horse drawn carriage in seconds. Seconds!