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Why is it that the beautiful people are always so sad?
Like tiny Shakespeare tragedies. All the Marilyns and Ophelias in the world. Mesmerizing on the outside whilst destroying themselves on the inside. And always smiling.
Sad really. How someone so stunning can waste all the potentialities of life on depressiondrugaddictionmadness. The beautiful people never last long. Like fireworks. Brilliant bursts of light that exist for only a second. As if our world is simply unable to contain that kind of beauty for long. Lost in translation.
I do declare if I was beautiful I wouldn’t be nearly as depressed as them. I think I would be fairly exuberant about life and love and the fact that I could probably do well with both just by smiling. But therein lies the problem. They are too busy smiling for anyone to notice that they are sad. Tis a pity.
