My beauty? Timeless.
I am the reason for the blonde and blue eyes phenomenon, why everyone would kill to have a vuluptous body like mine. I am perfection. I am the epitome of beauty and grace. A phenomenal woman.
In my world I can have all the clothes and shoes I want to wear, all the cars I can drive. For five decades I have been the plastic paramour of every male doll in this industry: Ken Carson, Blaine - you name them! How can they possibly resist my long lashes and pink lips?
I live in the perfect world.
And I am sick of all this perfection.
I am tired of being ageless. I want to grow wrinkles and have my grandchildren on my lap, have my man hold my hand while we watch the sunset from our porch.
I am tired of this smile plastered on my face. It prohibits me from crying my heartaches out, to be in despair of all the dreadful things happening to me - the things people are unaware of.
I am tired of all the glamor and adoration. A simple and peaceful country life is all I dream of. At times I want to hurt myself with my high-heeled shoes, leave a scar on my cheeks just so everyone will stop adoring me.
I am tired of being perfect. Of being Barbie Millicent Roberts.
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Being Barbie by KASH
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