We are classy women with classy tastes, and we use Comic
Sans because fuck you. We’re funny, right, Jessica? Yeah, we’re hilarious. Don’t
kid yourself, it’s only a defense mechanism. We suffer. We are oh so pained. We write
poetry and we show it to each other for much needed validation. There are too many layers
to us, and when you meet us, you know we’re just superficial. Like this
introduction, but do you really think this is just an introduction? Nothing is just around here. We’re not just friends, me and her or us with
anyone. We lament being born and not dying because we need to do stuff in
between. Fun stuff. Do we party? What does that even mean? Do we go to clubs in a push-up
bra with our hair straightened and get so shitfaced we appear in some douchebag’s
apartment the next morning? Maybe Jessica does that, I don’t know. What, you think
I know everything about my best friend? On the other hand, I’m open, I’m
private, I’m honest. I’ll tell you the harsh truth and you’ll think I’m joking.
Jessica’s done that a few times, and I bought it. I wonder if she, too, believes me when I say it’ll be fine. You know what? It won’t be. It’s just gonna be a blog
about nothing, an anonymous dream after the previous forgotten one, the one
where you were too high to notice you were awake. But don’t worry, we’ll keep
going. You’ll see us in L.A. or New York Citay and you’ll holler, but we don’t
know you. Do we want to get to know you? Uh…maybe…I don’t know, we’ll see. We
might be too cool, because we actually are super cool.
-
Romina D’Alessandro, Dragon
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