Your life is not
an episode of Skins. Things will never look as good as they do in a
faded, sun drenched Polaroid, your days are not an editorial from
Lula. Your life is not a Sofia Coppola Movieline a Chuck Palahniuk
novel or a Charles Bukowski poem. Grace Coddington is not your
graceful director, Bon Iver and Joy Division don't play softly
in the background at appropriate moments. Your hysterical teenage
diary isn't a work of art and your room probably isn't
Selby material. Your life isn't a Tumblr screen cap, every word
that comes out of your mouth will not be beautiful and poignant,
infinitely quotable. Pain will not be pretty, crying till you vomit
is not pretty. You cannot romanticise hurt or sadness or
loneliness. You will have homework and hangovers and bad hair days.
The train being late will not lead you to any fateful encounters,
it will simply make you late. Sometimes your work will suck,
sometimes you will suck, far too often, everyone will suck - and
not in a Wes Anderson kind of way. And there is no divine
consolation, only the knowledge that we will hopefully experience
the full spectrum - and that sometimes, just sometimes, life will
feel like a Coppola film.