a- the shiny single threads found everywhere. they used to be red, but as I adopted the 'good girl' identity I also adopted the 'listen to your mother' when it comes to chemical treatment of the head hair moto- hence it is now a boring Mediterranean brown. it does have some streaks of sunkissedness depending on its mood, how can this be ignored? (not so)secretly (at all) I love it. it helps my face make sense.
one thread I can spot on my plate. resting quietly amongst crumbs and two pieces of crust. (desperation has lead me to eat those in the past, to no avail. I am mature enough to understand and accept that it will never develop any curl to it. so can now be free to leave them and occasionally feed them to willing and hungry nearby people -or ducks)
another two are waving at me from the drying laundry on the radiator. they are stuck on some socks I don't recognise as mine. They are dull and unshiny. Fabrically softened perhaps.
b- irritating wool blobs need to be attacked with scissors. My coat is full of them, between the bottom of my sleeves and the underarm down to waist parts. My old lady look is destroyed by such details. So I invested in a new bright fuchsia coat, instead. not as warm, but as tulipy and as out of fashion as possible. Am I betraying my good old friend opting for this happier, younger model? Is this a change I will later recognise as signifying my development stages?
c- pretence of innocence. speaking my mind. and then shutting up. and conveniently forgetting anything was said. music on loop, pots of coffee, refreshing and clicking away. Since I lost my umbrella, winter has become much more challenging. I've upped my game and now need to become an adult. There's no escape, even my adult parents wish me to be adult. No more poetic avoidance and dancing my way out of horrid obligations.
Alter ego help me get a job please.
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