I will lean against the balcony railing with a sparking glass of wine and the wind will blow through my thousand dollar haircut.

I will be donned in Dior and exquisite in diamonds. Even my undies will bling.

I will have a poolboy with muscles and a fat dick and I will spoon him caviar from the spindly grace of my fingers.

Meanwhile my art will be hanging across the globe in various ritzy homes. I will make people happy with my beautiful, moving paintings and I will be a star.

On top of that I will be confident, graceful, and eloquent. I will possess a sort of magic that hexes all viewers. People will throw their money at me, bequeth me their fabulous gifts, and I will be at all the parties from Paris to Cali.

And the whole time it will phase me so minimally as if it were always the way that I lived.