|technicolor bag lady chic|
|Make up: Eyes: Wet n' Wild Mega Impact; Lips: CG Continuous Color Lipstick in "It's Your Mauve" with Milani lipliner in "cocoa"; Skin: sunscreen and jojoba oil (basically bare, it was way too hot)|
And still I wonder about all of them....
Where is his family? I always see older Asian men in a pair...this one was solo as if he'd lost it all like the black luster in his hair. He watches for everyone...telling that old black man not to leave his jacket behind...giving me a pointed glare when our bus arrived and I appeared to be absorbed in my iPod. Maybe he was needed before, but now he watches...always searching for his place.
Enter two specimens of pure, white youth. At first, I thought she was with him...a parallel pairing--but slightly mismatched because she was so damn shiny.
Perfect long blonde locks swept into a high ponytail.
White tank, washed blue shorts and a beautiful Hermes inspired satchel complemented with nude boat shoes.
Standard issue Aryan idol.
I thought they were together...until she leaned back, crotch open, one foot up, arms splayed across the back of the bench--a stark juxtaposition to her delicate vessel.
He sat with his body closed to her.
Maybe she'd given up on making him see how shiny she was.
Enter more degenerates; the gimpy African lady eyes me with her usual distaste...I think she thinks I'm a whore for some reason...maybe it's my shoes? There's the secret service man whose real job I will never know, but it requires a very neat, cheap suit and a perpetually stoic expression. I saw him with a girl once...it was odd because she looked young enough to be his daughter, but my first thought was maybe that's his wife.
|I still hate everyone, but at least now I'm smiling.|
Day 1: Cover Letter skeleton.