My skin, my skin, my supple, moist, perfect skin. At least once a day someone talks to me about my skin. No I’m not wearing blush it’s 90 degrees out and I walked two kilometers in jeans. This highlight is sweat. Oh how very very lucky I am.
What should I do? Should I scream or cry? Laugh maniacally? Make crazy eyes? Twist my lips into a disgusting grimace?? Just please notice anything but the bag that contains me, I did not even sew it myself. Want to hear the time I battled a monster inside my head? Or would you rather know my skincare routine? Goodness, how small my pores are!
Everything is ridiculous.