Do to the fact I have no job and no car, I have not much to do with my time. BUT, be here with my thoughts and that could be a very scary thing for anyone! ha! Since, my thoughts are going crazy with everything I do, I begin thinking as I apply a coat of war paint (AKA make-up) I begin to think #1 What's the point when I'm going NO where and NO one will be here anytime soon. I suppose the only reason would be IF I ever get that random knock on the door from a friend saying, "Lets go." Which by the way is an uncommon situation for me. But hey, since I have nothing buy time to kill, may as well do something about the hideousness of that spotted (freckled) skin that covers my face. Which leads to my second thought: The post-war paint is slightly easier on the eye than the pre-war paint. So, I think how cruel I've been to my family and friends walking around with out the wonderful camouflaged coat on my face. Maybe it would be considered cruelty or some sort of visual torture?
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