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The Wax of Kim Kardashian…





From a snazzy New York guy to an artsy French man, from a Billionaire to a nobel laureate, from everywhere to anywhere, Kim Kardashian’s beauty is recognized by every man alive. She isn’t just beautiful; she is divinely gorgeous with a body of clay, ice and fire. Her dreamlike curves make you fine; her lascivious smile can ruin empires. She is the last metaphor of sensuality.  She is the Cleopatra of our generation. My words may sound enormously big but the fact is they are extremely nothing for praising this lady who conquered my heart the day I saw her online. It’s she whom I love to love. She is the shining star in my moonless galaxy, she is that firefly in my garden that I would like to chase, she is the lilies in my garden. It’s hard to ignore her existence in my life. I may sound insane but my insanity looks valid for her. It’s been five years; I am in love with her. I am celebrating her birthdays in my lonely corner, I talk to her in my dreams, I get that flying sensation whenever I see her. I need no one if I get that wax of Kim Kardashian. This is no open letter, this is no celebrity fixation, and this is just my selfless love for the beauty from Armenia. I can write an entire book of fiction for her…

Confession of a Die hard Kim Kardashian addict from India…

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