Favoritisms

To the children of the wold and the naive, subsequently reality deprived, individuals seeking purity in the world, lying is a natural capability of man. One of which our parents knowingly reinforced in their daily lives in the process of monitoring our adolescence. I' m sorry (but then you c/should be thanking me for this) you had to find out this way but they lied when the said you could grow up to be a "superhero", like really mom, bullshhark . Or, or, or when they said you're lipstick for school was "cute" and most importantly when they said they "didn't have a favorite child". Where the hell is she going with this, you might inquire?  Point blank: Favoritism. Favorites exists no matter how profuse our effort to deny our elusive impartial tendencies.

 But still, where is she going with this, you might continue to inquire possibly in a tone flecked with a more interrogative approach? Well, I may in a more hostile,impatient and sarcastically inclined tone respond, this is my favorite outfit... of the week at least. Something about it just feels good, maybe it's the neon element the cap implores of which never falters within the mutalistic (sp?) undertones of our unlikely marriage. Or maybe, the fact that I'm sporting two separate shirts insinuating layering in varying climates, and we all know I luff me sum lay-errs. Maybe it's because my furry-but-not-really-shedding shirt is worn backwards and my brassiere is narrowly peaking through– post-it note that thought for a future discussion. Maybe it's the simple fact that I'm sitting on a transparent chair, I love transparency in all forms, especially in the characterization of the soul and IKEA chairs!

I cannot tell a lie, this outfit is ONE of my favorites, a reality of which strategic honesty will be pertinent in the formation of my moral compass upon embracing motherhood.