Why fairy tales may not be good for little girls and the blue jasmine…

First reaction… a dismissive denial.. the story was predictable… nothing particularly.. did I even need to know all the details of this story?!

It is strangely beautiful of course, the alluring web that she lives in, the classy meaninglessness that she surrounds herself with. Like all she did was take a bite of the luscious red, poisonous apple which the evil queen used to lure Snow White. Just that the pace is slower. And it is now a metaphor. Something from the fairy tale still lingers around, though.

Yet she had loved. Somewhere in the layers of pretense lies a heart that is broken. A melancholy that not even something as loud as a Louis Vuitton bag can hope to hide. Or the trillion other baubles she mourns for.

When a mind is deluded and trapped, believing that there is only one way to live; somewhere, knowing; yet choosing not to believe. Carrying the whims of parents and the ghosts of just plain old bad genes, it is after all only the fairy tale they are all after.

And not a single moment of that violent shaking up that happens, of that what-the-fuck-were-you-thinking. And maybe a chance at something better. Oh no. This is as real as it gets. Was it touching. No. Was it cruel. Yes.


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