Dancing In The Rain I'm waiting for the rainbow to come, and I'm bored. I would dance in the rain, but you took my wellies, and it's not like you'd teach me how to dance anyway. I would jump in the puddles, but someone took my raincoat. I'd go out and buy one, but I have no money, and it's not like you'll lend me any. So I'll just sit here, looking out of the window at the raindrops reluctantly snaking down the window, seemingly chased by one another, by their own brother.
Airhead "But I'm not dead!" "Legally, you are. It all comes down to the locus of identity. Just what is the locus - or perceived location - of our identities... Our souls, as it were? Or the heart and body? Nikki Howard's brain, it's true, is no longer functioning. Her heart, on the other hand, continues to beat." - 'Airhead', Meg Cabot
Tears Through Make-Up Like most girls, I wear make-up. Like most girls, I wear a lot of it (but I make sure I don't look like a tart): foundation, powder, blusher, highlighter, eyeshadow, mascara, eyeliner, and some sort of tint on my lips. It sounds like a lot, but you probably wear that much too. Maybe more. The other day a single tear ran down my cheek. When I looked in the mirror, I saw it had cut through the liquid eyeliner that I'd carefully applies into perfect cat-eye flicks, the Clinique Bottom-Lash Mascara, the concealer, the alabaster foundation and the powder like a knife through butter, and I realised that all we're doing is hiding ourselves, because we believe our own skin, our own eyes, our own lips and nose and cheekbones aren't good enough. Sometimes I think I'll have a make-up free day, even though the only spots on my face are freckles, but we all know that's never going to happen. Why? Because I don't trust people not to laugh at me, and I don't believe I'm pretty enough. People say everyone is beautiful in their own way. Yeah, because Osama Bin Ladin, Dr Shipman, and Henry VIII were gorgeous.