Party girls are not genuine grownups. We have been fantastically impulsive, gorgeously WILD, stunning and madly sexy girl-creatures whom are now living in the glorious moment that is f*cking. Our company is several things. But “grownups,” we have been maybe perhaps not.
We do not are now living in truth; we are now living in pretty, glitter-adorned bubbles. We drink champagne want it’s water and wear fishnet stockings to your office.
We have been content surviving in a fantasy that is endless. Until our company is disrupted by the cool, cunning touch of love.
Just what exactly takes place when the party that is quintessential discovers by by herself dropping for a full time income, respiration grown-up? A bonafide adult? a person that is real?
Two globes that seldom meet are abruptly staring each other dead when you look at the attention. It is an experience that is fascinating-yet-terrifying unexpectedly holds a mirror as much as our careless life. As chronic avoiders, we are not familiar with seeing things as they’ve been.
The unexpected existence of a adult that is real our globes sets a little pinprick into the shiny red balloon we call home.
Abruptly, reality crystallizes into our framework of eyesight.