Saturday, September 10, 2011

Spice on the Spring Wind

Solipsism. When a memory feels as real as life. It's as valid as life.

"Laser dot trembles on the target's skull. One finger twitch, he dies. Then, the smell of spice on the spring wind. Sunset eyes defiant in the scope. The laser dances away."

Sunset Eyes. I wore it for the first time today. Who knew that one day I'd be making a polish inspired by my videogame alien lover's dead wife? Hmm, not I. Not I.

A short funny story before I show my NOTD. My brother knows all about my polish addiction and involves himself in my frankens. Today, he saw me doing my nails. This was our conversation:

Him: What color are you doing now?
Me: Black.
Him: Just black? None of your fancy custom colors? (frankens)
Me: Yeah, I'm just doing one coat of this underneath first.
Him: Which color are you using?
Me: This one. *shows him bottle of Sunset Eyes*
Him: What's it called? Hand it to me. I'll come up with a name for you.

He looked a little disappointed when I told him it already had a name. But he approved of the name Sunset Eyes, so that's good.

NOTD. Please excuse my lack of cleanup, as my kitten stole my cleanup brush.

Different angle to show the color shift of the hexagon glitter:

Now...Thane, look at that face you're making and tell me you weren't being intentionally creepy when you said the following:

"Thinking about a moment brings back the smell of cut grass, the warmth of another's hand on yours, the taste of another's tongue in your mouth. Wouldn't you rather lose yourself in such a memory than spend the night alone, staring at walls of metal and plastic?"


...yeah. You're still cool though. Now please tell me where you got your jacket. I really want one. Hell, I'd take your entire wardrobe. Yeah, that's better.

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