Darling, let me make something abundantly clear: I, Maria, don’t do middle. I want life in all its glorious extremes.
I want the caviar and the
roadside burgers – because why settle for one when you can devour both?
Diamonds that sparkle like stars and gummy rings that make me giggle like a child.
Give me the love that makes my heart race, and yes, the heartache that leaves me breathless. I’m here for the full experience, darling – not just the highlights.
I want the sprawling mansion with rooms I’ll never use, and then, I want to dive headfirst into the mosh pit, where everyone’s sweating and losing their minds to the beat.
Candlelit dinners that make me feel like I’m in a movie? Yes, please. And then straight to the neon lights of a rave, where I dance until my feet beg for mercy.
I want champagne that bubbles with luxury, and cider that tastes like summer in a bottle.
Fly me first class, reclining in silk pajamas – but don’t think I won’t hop off a bus, backpack in tow, ready to trek wherever the wind takes me.
Ride me in a Rolls, sleek and smooth – and then throw me on a Vespa because, darling, life’s too short not to feel the wind in my hair.
I want to toast in a gin palace, feeling like royalty, and then retreat to a rickety shack where the charm is in its imperfections.
I want to dine with kings and then let loose on the dance floor, my Blacky Afro bouncing in time with the music.
I want the finest couture jacket draped over my shoulders one night and my 30-year-old beat-up denim hugging me the next, reminding me that style doesn’t age – it just gets better.
I want to taste, touch, live in all the worlds. And I’ll belong to none because being tied to just one? Oh no, that’s not for me. I’ll take the adventure, the contrast, the thrill of never quite fitting into a box.
And when my time’s up, darling, I’ll leave with a full stomach – satisfied, indulged, having tasted every corner of life.
What I don’t want is anything in the middle. The middle is boring. It’s a flatline, a yawn dressed up as contentment. And the worst of all? It’s pretentious mediocrity – the kind that tries to act like it’s enough when it’s so not.
So, here’s the deal: Give me life in bold strokes or give me nothing at all. I’m here for the everything.
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