Most Likely to Make a Scene
There's this girl who throws up glitter. She was extra. Extra! Read all about it.
She wears L.L. Bean but listens to metal. Wears her sunglasses inside. Wears her heart on her sleeve. But she pukes actual glitter and it's actually quite political. It's a statement. She's a national treasure. She does it without intending to; it's just her way. It usually happens when she's trying to adult too hard. She pushes herself to the brink to be serious and orderly and measured and shiny and happy in all the right ways and then she just cracks open like those confetti sprinkle cakes you see on Instagram and there is no going back. What's done is done and you have to deal with it. Obnoxious, neon nonsense all over the plate. She holds back and she tries really hard, but she can't help it. It bottles up and eventually what comes out isn't going to come out of your carpet anytime soon.
Sit with it, it will stay with you. It should. She can't contain her insides and it just comes out. She can't help it. Glitter is invasive. Once it's unleashed it creeps into everything. It spreads from the soles of your shoes, it stays under your fingernails. Good luck trying to clean it up. You can't. It just disbands over time, long after it's made an impression, and by then it's everywhere.
She apologized, but she's been working on the need to do that for every little thing. Girl, stop. Women carry that burden of having to feel sorry for everything all the time. Even if it's not your mess to clean up, you're really "sorry" someone had to go through the trouble of taking care of it. But, why? Don't. So she won't because she doesn't have to; because she shouldn't. You know what? She actually won't apologize and she's not sorry. So there. Her vomit isn't like the rest. It's just her expression and it can't be contained.
It's just art, man.