A Woman in the sun (Hopper)

My ash tray has disappeared again. Why am I still smoking these filthy
cigarettes? You would think I knew better by now. This room stinks. My
life stinks. Where are my clothes? I didn’t come in naked, too, last night,
did I? Who was the guy I ended up with after the bar closed? Said he was
an artist...trying to paint sunlight on skin, he had this pale yellow paint, it
was named for a town in Europe somewhere...Italy maybe, Milan? We
could go there...he would show me the light...right...imagine that...he
wanted to paint me...look what he did, the bastard, it’s all over my breasts,
my stomach, arms, legs, it’s even on the goddamn carpet. How am I going
to get rid of this stuff? Do you suppose there’s a shower lurking in this
rathole? I really should stop drinking...why did I let what’s his name do
this? Wait, Naples, Naples yellow, that’s what it was...the paint color, or so
he said...who knows...what’s the Italian word for fake? Fugazi?...