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September 16, 2013 | by  | in Opinion |
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Secret Diary of Miley Cyrus

Dear Diary,

I’m taking a few minutes out for myself at the VMAs after-party to record what’s going on. I’m, ahem, dancing with Molly, so who knows where things will go. I want to remember this night forever though. The night I became the next Madonna.

I’ve had a bit of time to reflect on my performance tonight. I didn’t plan it; I just went with it. It’s the VMAs, you know? The bar was already set pretty high, what with Madonna and Britney kissing that one time. MTV told me to push the envelope, and I think it will pay off once everyone calms down a bit.

I’ve gotta admit, though, I don’t really understand why the girls in the ‘Blurred Lines’ video didn’t get much flak for strutting around in flesh-coloured underwear with a foam finger like I did. They even got their boobs out! I mean, they were my inspiration after all. I guess it’s one thing to bop around looking comatose like that when a guy tells you to, but another to act of your own volition and with a cropped ‘do and boyish figure.

Dad initially seemed unimpressed after the show. I thought he was disowning me when he turned around and said, “You can tell the world you never was my girl.” But I realised he was just singing ‘Achy Breaky Heart’. Then he smiled and cracked a classic dad joke—“Looks like you really blurred Robin’s lines in that striped suit he’s wearing!” and I knew we were cool.

Terry Richardson approached me tonight, and asked if I wanted to collaborate on my next video. He said ‘We Can’t Stop’ showed a lot of potential. Potential for nudity, probably. When I told him that my next single is called ‘Wrecking Ball’, and is about being emotionally torn apart, his eyebrows hit the ceiling. “I’ve got just the plan,” he told me while licking his lips. “What if we started with some emotional nudity? We could show fans another… side of you.” I’d kind of been thinking more literally, so I told Terry I was hoping the video could feature an actual wrecking ball. “Oh, I’ve got a good pair of wrecking balls that I can show you.” He grinned, and I started practising my tears for the video.

Everyone here tonight is shocked by the things I did on stage, and the content of my ‘We Can’t Stop’ video. Twitter’s going mad and reporters keep calling. I think the criticism directed towards me is a bit misguided. I’m not single-handedly to blame for the current state of pop culture. I don’t see anyone pointing the finger at Pitbull for his bad white suits. I guess it must be pretty confronting to see everything that’s popular mashed up into a four-minute video, and realise what a state society is in. But hey, don’t shoot the messenger.

2013 is my year, I can almost see it. That dream I’m dreaming. I can no longer promise that the next time we hang out I will redeem myself. I’m giving new meaning to my best friend Lesley’s words when she says, “Oh, she’s just being Miley.” I’m starting to think about where to from here. What would Madonna do? Maybe I’ll spank a twerking dwarf. In Germany.

Anyway, better get back to it. Snoop’s calling. I can’t wait to see you again.

Love, kisses, and tongue,

Miley xoxo

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