The latest inkwell assignment is to name and describe ones alter-personality. Now, in my case, I can picture this woman perfectly in my mind. And if I ever were to meet this other me, I’m quite certain we wouldn’t get along for a second. Or perhaps, we’d agree to dislike each other.
Her name is Victoria. She has long blond hair and a body to match a toothpick, proudly artificially enhanced. The need to look neat before stepping a single heeled-foot out the door, rules her every thought. She prefers to watch soap-operas and reality-shows on TV, rather than read a book (which she can’t spell too well anyway). She believes that concrete should be the new Mother Nature, after all, what is life without a good restaurant, spa or theater? She enjoys watching horror movies at midnight, with the lights turned off, and alone so as to feel safer. She appreciates hypocrisy in others, as she herself lives by the same credo. Her highest aspiration is to be Miss Universe and be admired for just her looks. She hopes to marry imminently, a stocky self-centered politician who values women as he values material things. And when she dies, she insists on being placed in a glass sarcophagus (like Snow White).