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Superficial

You can tell who they are, the superficial ones. They walk around like they own the whole world, taking what they like, and giving back next to nothing.

She’s no different.

She thinks that if she pays absurd amounts on her clothing and make-up, all is right in the world. That getting her glossy glowing locks cut at a ‘5 star’ salon will make a difference. She’s unable to care about anyone but herself. When she speaks I get chills of a different kind – disgust. The way she commands those around her, like a famous dictator should. Every word that comes out of her mouth is doused with pure filth. Her full mouth motions for ‘more attention’, ‘more money’, and ‘more gifts’. She dances around the big city like the sidewalks are her stage. Her actions plead for attention, but she never gives any to anyone else. She makes herself seem untouchable, just because she has the money to. She’s fake, she’s who she HAS to be.

Maybe that’s what makes her who she is.

Who can say? She’s like their puppet, on display for the world to see, but the only place where she is free, is in her soul. Deep, deep down, she knows who she is, but what overpowers her is what everyone wants her to be. You want her to be fake – you see her show two sides. Perhaps this is her way of being polite to others, understanding ones background and agreeing, then listening to another’s, and show complete assurance in that side as well. You want to see her take it all – you block out the good deeds she performs. Yes, she earns millions a year, but she gives back thousands of her shares. She may not spend the time, but she knows she can spend the money. Those chills, those feelings of strong hate that you produce from her words are all an image of jealousy. You know this, but do you admit it? No one ever does, even if it is the most obvious answer. She doesn’t blame you, she doesn’t hate you for it, she would be the same if put into your shoes. This does not make her ‘air-headed’ or stupid, this makes her well rounded and tolerant – maybe, more tolerant than you in those manners. Does this make her wrong? Does this make her a beast?

She is still human.
She is still you.
She is still me.

We are all beautiful creatures, alike and different; never forget that for every bad, there is still a good.



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