Pretty Girl Gets Drunk

The thing about beauty, moving gracefully through this realm – when beauty becomes self aware, when it can acknowledge its own attractiveness and the inherent power bestowed upon the pleasing to look at, it becomes rank in this small way. Self centered and egomaniacal. Pretentious, ostentatious, indulgent. Excessive. Bloated by free drinks and free drugs and in the morning it wakes up and stares into a closet full of well selected, carefully cared for designer garments and can find nothing to wear.

Careening on the upper side of a bar stool, clutching martini glass after martini glass filled lovingly with some vicious liquid intent on numbing said beauty from the pain of being beautiful. Beauty that has been crowned as a victim by greedy hands. Broken beauty, self pitying now, because while beauty can get a free pass through many doors in society, it lacks the substance of wit and personality that can maintain the initial benefits that beauty provides. That’s all she is: attractive. Merely attractive, which, let’s admit it, nowadays beauty is commonplace. It’s mundane and unnoteworthy. It’s been done, we’ve all seen it, so what else is there worth talking about? 

Beauty slowly rotting away inside its own pretty carcass. I think I would like to look away, but there’s a certain amount of glee to be garnered from watching something beautiful slowly become vile and repulsive.