XIV.II.MMXVI
Manhattan, NY.
Designer bags, designer cars, designer champagne, but what more? There'll always lie a craving for more and when one can't find it in luxury, one needs to look a little closer.
Lounging around on chartered private planes. A trip to Bali because we crave a new form of reality. Sunsets and starry nights much more beautiful than any explosion of abstract art. Nothing is better than the original. Nothing is better than the real deal. Dancing under the stars in intricate metallic sarongs and lace bikinis. Drinking expensive champagne and eating chocolate covered strawberries.
Showers of powdered paint cover us from all directions, destroying the materialistic things we lend so much importance to, breaking down the value until they mean nothing. Until the only thing left to admire is our beating hearts under the dark clouds melting into sunrise. But old habits die hard and once again we're searching for freedom in designer bags, cars and champagne. Craving cashmere like cocaine wondering who we are in a world built on swirls of confusion.
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