I took my old boss out to Momo's tonight for her birthday. We had a blast and I drank 3 glasses of Prosecco but on the way home I got into an argument with some boy about how materialistic I am and now I'm spent. I'm done defending my dreams.
I defend my day to day like, every day. Tooth and nail, and it's why I get up every morning. So my dreams are sacred territory. I get whatever the fuck I want in them, you know? That space should remain uncontested. I hate anyone putting a ceiling on my sky.
So fuck them if they don't understand.
I might have to go to LA tomorrow for work. A last minute thing, and normally I'd be jazzed cause it's kinda glamorous. Except that I work Friday night until 1:30 AM and getting on a plane 5 hours later is like the opposite of a good time for me. A 6 AM flight is like my kryptonite.
But I do wish that my whole life was photo and video shoots. I'd get spoiled on craft services and fill my memories with pretty and interesting people in great outfits.
Imagine a professional crew to light every moment of your life. Casting you in the softest beams, lending drama where needed and downplaying the shit you don't want seen. And a stylist to keep you fresh. And a director to keep you interesting.
Action.
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