Conversation between a princess and an outlaw (on stereotypes)

“Conversation between a princess and an outlaw:
“If I stand for fairy-tale balls and dragon bait – what do you stand for?”
“Me? I stand for uncertainty, insecurity, bad taste, fun, and things that go boom in the night.”
“Frankly, it seems to me that you’ve turned yourself into a stereotype.”
“You may be right. I don’t care. As any car freak will tell you, the old models are the most beautiful, even if they aren’t the most efficient. People who sacrifice beauty for efficiency get what they deserve.”
“Well, you may get off on being a beautiful stereotype, regardless of the social consequences, but my conscience won’t allow it.”
“And I goddamn refuse to be dragon bait. I’m as capable of rescuing you as you are of rescuing me.”
“I’m an outlaw, not a hero. I never intended to rescue you. We’re our own dragons as well as our own heroes, and we have to rescue ourselves from ourselves.”

Tom Robbins / Still Life with Woodpecker

Which one will it be?

Being both a princess and an outlaw means knowing when to sip champagne and when to set the damn place on fire. It’s the art of walking in glass slippers one moment and kicking them off to run barefoot through the mud the next. It’s understanding that fairy tales are just as real as the chaos that shatters them—because life is both, queening and jailbreak. The princess in me craves beauty, tradition, and a world that makes sense; the outlaw knows that sense is overrated, that sometimes you have to be the storm instead of waiting for rescue. Together, they make me whole—never fully contained, never quite tamed. I wear my crown like brass knuckles, and if the world wants to put me in a tower, well, they’d better reinforce the damn walls.