Pretty

What do I want to be when I grow up?

The answer is one – pretty.

We met with a photographer today, discussed some headshots, shooting scenarios, settings, but the only thought that kept revolving in my head was: “I don’t care what you do. Just make sure I look pretty.”

Still trying to stop smoking over here. The logic is quite simple: you have got to re-programme your brain. You have got to re-wire your train of thoughts, so smoking wouldn’t seem like a source of pleasure anymore.

If I could actually re-programme my brain, if it was all so simple, there is one thing I would eradicate to its core – this stupid desire to be pretty.

Yes, I’m a strong, confident and, some would even say, quite an intelligent woman. And, as such, I can’t stop being amazed at my own stupidity. If there was a course I could take, if I could follow some programme – I would definitely get a BA, probably even an MA, that would teach me ‘how to be pretty’.

Yes, I did not choose to live in the world of appearances. Yes, I do my best to escape this contest of beauty. But at the moments of vulnerability, I still can’t help thinking that there is this one thing I so wanna be when I grow up – to simply just be pretty.

 

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