[ Make-up from yesterday. It’s easy to put it on and it never gets off on the easiest way. The shades that don’t like to be removed. Random up town masks that change once in a while. And when they change, it’s  the new 7 o’clock you. Sometimes i spend evenings circling around the eyelids, playing to remove the black kajal pencil shadows with my fingers. Just like women from great cities around the globe. All we have is this ritual. Commonplace…Fine women, business women, ready to get in silky beds, thinking which mask to wear tomorrow. The sofisticated one, the dramatic, the natural, the cosmopolite, the almost faded…
And it’s the night that has the power to change shades. One of the few exquisite moments when a woman can wear her self mask without being jugded for her genuine innocence…She’s naked and naive once again. Inhaling the almost ending winter from her window. Beyond this frame, surrealistic night tales are hatched from delusional make-ups while women reflecting in geometrical mirrors…]

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