Proza

A princess.  Perfect hair.  Perfect make-up.  Perfect life.  The only thing missing is me. It'll never be my life again. Maybe in another time.  Maybe it was another life.  Maybe it was just the most  magnificent dream my mind has ever conjured.  Maybe it's just as  fake as all that perfection always was.  One day I'll know.  One day we'll all know how messed up and wrong and evil those "perfect" things are.  One day we'll stop wanting them.  One day we'll grow up and realize that that dream is actually a nightmare and that all that perfection is terrifying.