"CHARLIZE (Theron) is lost in a moment. Suddenly, she seems sad. She is sad. The WRITER (*author of this story*), surprised, asks why, quietly.
CHARLIZE
My dogs. One of my dogs -- he died. He was just a real dog, you know? You could see his spirit. People sensed it immediately. He watched you so deeply, he worried about you. We found him on the streets in Italy, sick and sort of mangy. I worked to make him well and brought him back to live with me here. Fuck. He was his own creature. He used to wander away, up the beach, and people would call me and say he was two miles away, that he'd come for a visit. They weren't angry. They loved it. He looked in on people, kind of watched over them. Then he got so sick, and it was fast, and all I was left with was the sense that he lived this large life and he didn't belong to any one person in the first place. So...
She stops talking, waves a hand at nothing. Her eyes are wet with tears. The WRITER looks at the sky, takes a sip of his drink, filling the moment.
CHARLIZE
So he died. Two weeks ago. Six years old. So I'm feeling that today. That's what I'm feeling."
This is to all the paparazzi and the media who try to brainwash people into perceiving certain celebrities (or anyone, for that matter) as one-dimensional privileged stars.
Everyone has feelings. Respect it.
Much love,
~ Liz
P.S. - http://www.esquire.com/women/the-sexiest-woman-alive/mysterywoman1107
P.P.S. - Don't ask me why I was even reading this. I have a habit of just "wandering" online, lol.
(From my *Notes* off my Facebook profile - check it out)
Unknown "Le Beaut" Peaceful
- 16 years, 9 months, 22 days ago