sábado, 6 de abril de 2013

Pretty woman

My whole life people have told me how beautiful I looked even when I didn't, as though it was the only thing that truly mattered; maybe for this reason I've always preferred loose clothes, rags, trainers and flip-flops; maybe for this reason I've always hated mini skirts, high heels and make-up. Bum to ones, top model to others - and there I go. I really don't care, but there is no escape - once again here they come, starving, staring, trying to imagine what's underneath my baggy jeans and my comfy T-shirt. I feel like telling them Hey - listen to this: being pretty is so much more than looking good... And you know what? Deep inside I'm sure they know - they just don't understand how come I've got to know it too.

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