I am not faded eye shadow and illy-wiped mascara. I am not tearful kohl and broken-winged eye liner. I am not cheap blusher and heavily applied concealer. I am not their sketch paper, patted with their dashing rainbows of color, later creating light masks. I am not the mannequin in front of thousand-dollar designer display windows, posed to sheer perfection. I am not their dress, tightly fit, uncomfortably cradled unto unnatural waists and curves. I am not the wig, unblemished and untouched, worn on their stages and platforms. I am a face, an identity, a person, a human being; I am not a doll, a plaything, an item, a product. I am a face, a fingerprint, an influence, an individual; I am not a toy, a figure of wax, a chunk of modeled plastic, a suitcase carried from door to door. I am a face. I am not to be sold for currency, or anything else, for the matter.

18/03/2015