diumenge, de març 19, 2006
The Brow Burden
I’ve got some heavy brows to lift.This isn’t a new way of saying that a burden is weighing down my shoulder’s. I’m not trying to avoid the cliché of the primate attempting to gain squatters rights on my posterior.
I mean that if you were drawing a picture of my face my brows would eat away at w/e type of utensil you were trying to be funny with.
The eyebrows dictate the settings your facial mannerisms will work best in. If you like to make a little perch with the end of one of them people will perceive it as being something. Hang them as wet rug you need to dry before your eyes and everyone will
doubt that you’ll make it out of adolescence alive.I would be lying if I didn’t say that my brows force me to commit to an expression before I make it.
A girl once told me my face is a blank slate, expressionless, or something else. I remembered she was thirteen and I was asleep in the sun.
Show me a picture you took of me. I’ll imagine which and how many ornaments I can hang off the bold underscores that demarcate the place eyes end and forehead begins while you wax on how bad you came out.
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