There’s a part of me that could have been THAT girl.
The one that has a tremendous online following, writes for magazine after magazine about her wild social life, as well as her stories about experimentation with drugs that end up as either a sobering, hardship of tragedy or a hilarious, out-of-this-world adventure that comes to a conclusion somewhere abroad.
I could have dressed in full-length tutu skirts and graphic T-shirts of classic rock bands. I would have worn my best designer heels to a dentist appointment and my dustiest trainers to the most exclusive bars. (I would always get in because I’m always on the list.)
My sex life would have been vibrant and fluid. I would have longed for something stable, expertly hiding that desire under my many electrifying ensemble of all genders that have encountered my bed sheets. There would be regulars and strangers. Lovers and losers.
Family reunions would have been an outstanding mess. I would smoke with my mother and put the world to rights in the comfort of our penthouse apartment with my brothers. We would be ironic. I would love it and hate it. We would eat with our silver spoons and dish out the leftovers to whoever was closest.
My life would be both a nightmare and a dream. I would live in a play, constantly living for the applause at the end, only to start my performance again the next day. Routine would be a word I didn’t know. Scheduling would be for my best friend/ assistant – I wouldn’t be sure of what they were first and foremost.
I would be loved and hated. A semi-celebrity.
I’d pretend that I never had the time to watch TV. I’d do anything to escape the normal.
My deep-rooted issues would be disguised under the most beautiful blossoms. Even a therapist would be too blinded by my rose-tinted filter to find anything severely wrong with me. What a charmer.
When I tired from chaos, I would go to Europe to find myself and rest, But even then, the adventures would keep on coming. I would be like a moth to the flame, except life with a capital L would be the moth.
On my travels I would sleep whenever and wherever, adopt fellow tourists as my companions, I would tell old friends that I was in rehab, so that they didn’t bother me whilst I found myself in yet another different city. I’d make a new persona for myself, or maybe just discover a different one that’s always been a part of me.
My memoir of my twenties (so far) would grab me a figure of five zeros or more. I would celebrate happily alone, with a bottle of red, oil paints and a canvas as big as a wall. Some of the wine would get on the canvas, and a lot of the paint would get onto my body.
I Could have lived this life…
or at least parts of it. If I had the stability of wealth, I could have been a very different person indeed – like all of us that live in the 99% (though I do realise I am in the privileged section of this percentage). .
Even without the wealth to back up this wild, acid-trip-like lifestyle, I think I could have been a version of her – however, I’m pretty sure that version wouldn’t have been so casual about money, and would probably have faced quite a few serious troubles along the way.
I daydream about the many sides of my personality taking the forefront, being the side of me that leads the way, and what my life might have been like if I had let them out. There’s no guarantee that this grass would have been that much greener, it would have just been different. Different in good ways and bad.
It would just be nice to let that side of me out, every now and again.
This post was inspired by the very little but very addictive writing I have read about Cat Marnell.