CAD face

Sometimes fun things happen when you draw sections...
Second floor with green roof as hair and hat piece, ducts as eyes, coatroom opening as mouth.

End of Envy, Realization, and Cherish

I've been always envy of what others did or experienced, without noticing the great things I got my hands on or had experienced that people are fond of...

I went to see my friend's recital recently. I never saw her as a pianist; she was my good buddy since early in high school. You know, skipping classes together, going out for bubble tea, chatting until 3am and stuff. At her performance, I was simply shocked. She looked very professional in her beautiful dark navy blue dress, and played many pieces of wonderful music which I couldn't describe nor comment as I'm not familiar with music scores and I was totally sunken into the passionate melodies. But definitely I was surprised by the pianist aspect of her. During her play, with all those powerful notes sipping through my mind, I couldn't stop wondering my current unsuccessful status. I am just a soon-to-be-graduated architecture student, with no wish of working in the architecture field. Even though I have been dipping lightly into graphic arts and photography, I would not say I can take them too seriously and make a living out of them. I should feel bad with my empty accomplishments.

Yet, my friend's younger sister reminded me of something. I was chatting with her during intermission, and she did not recognize me. However as soon as I mentioned my name, she immediately knew I was the one who was working in Shanghai. Wow, even my friend's sibling remembered me for having an internship aboard. Suddenly I felt special, well sort of.

I guess people never realized the stuff they did or things they experienced in their own lives can be extraordinary to others. We always wanted what we don't get. But as soon as you have it, the exoticness evaporates. They will just become part of daily life. The ordinary.

Femininity: A Personal Intepretation

Childhood
My mother was a earthy, natural, butch-like woman. She dislikes fuzzy things. Everything had to be simple and crisp clear. When I was still a kid, my daily-life rarely consisted of any girly things. I begged for long hair, just like the dolls typical girl played with, forever. I envied my classmates from the all girls' catholic school, with their shiny straight hair braided, twisted, and decorated with blue ribbons that matched the school uniforms. My mother told me she did not want to braid my hair, and short hair made everyone's life easier. My sole way of displaying femininity, well girliness at that time, was stripped for convenience. You see I was never a happy kid.

Teenager
Finally I could manage my own belongings. I clad myself with silky long hair with curls that were perfectly styled, natural monochrome make-up, rimless business looking glasses, professional A-line skirts, and black pointy flats. Would people take me as an attractive yet mature young lady? I didn't want to be the sexy, but good enough for those developing young male adults to pay attention to me. Actually, I wouldn't care. They were so immature anyway, only daydreaming and fantasizing about other girls' lacy bras and thong underwear. Yet, I did not get why no one had ever noticed me. A shy, quite intelligent, artsy girl.

Late-teens and beyond
Over with the males. Questioning and conflicting with the morals, girls are apparently attractive too. Hmm, especially boyish butchy ones. They are much softer and more understanding than bio-boys. Also why not go against the majority's view on female attractiveness, and start binding the bosoms? They are really only functional during sexual play anyway.

* * *

I wonder if my life experiences had an effect on my current interpretation of femininity, leaving an impress on my obscure view.

I hate girly females, those ones dancing in the greens with mary jane pumps, flowy skirts and flying scarfs. I would never pity those who twisted their ankle or leg or whatever with their high heels. I think the women who tried to show off their curves are slutty. Yes, I said slutty. I don't care if you are doing this for yourself, or wanting to be objectified by others. I dislike those soft, weak girls that get freaked out and cry easily because of some small thing. Really? The whole act just looks stupid and so pretending to me. If you cry in front of males, maybe they will try their best to help, comfort, or protect you. Me? Go f*ck off. I don't give a damn.

On the other hand, I'm just as stupid as those girls I mentioned above. I am craving to find femininity that works with my own body and mind, and I know I still have a lot to figure out. I strongly discourage the act of being dependent, which is a popular and conventional method of showcasing feminine quality. But am I crossing the line where I'm really just complaining my discomfort because I'm lost? I felt like I have to resculpt the idea of being feminine while not totally trashing my past believes and experiences.

So, what is femininity?

Binders

When people hear the term binder, most would think of the folder with rings or clasps for organizing loose paper.

For me, what comes in mind is a garment that binds my chest into a flat landscape... and I am hoping that it will symbolically organize my thoughts on the meaning of being a female.

* * *

If an individual looks ambiguous at the initially look, majority of people would stare down on the person's chest area to see if there are female second sexual characteristics, or boobs, so they can label the person as female or male.

There is also another type of people that would aim straight to female bosoms. Those disgusting perverted men. Those who tried to stare right down your neckline, ripping the shirt open mentally.

* * *

I feel very uncomfortable when people oogle at me, especially my upper body. Yes I have lady lumps. No, I don't want to show them off. Go buy a Playboy magazine and satisfy your visual experience. I don't even want to reveal my curves at all. I only want to keep them for play with my partner in our room in private. For the rest of the time, I just want to keep them neatly binded flat.

* * *

I cannot stop thinking why I think like this. Am I obscurely brainwashed by the awkward believes and culture that I was brought up with? Why am I binding my chest just because I don't want other to look at it? But isn't that just oppressing myself and not being a feminist? Isn't that a trap, and patriarchy is taking its chance to suppress me?

What about the society's view on females not having significant upper chest areas? Does that mean those women are unattractive? But all those high fashion models are pretty much flat too. Will I get alienated if I say I want to be identify as female, but I want a chest flat? Am I abnormal? What is normal anyway, the say of the majority?

Yet on the other hand... what is the purpose having breasts actually? Are they for display, for pleasure, or for what?

Revenges might be positive afterall.

Sometimes I wonder if I did all of this just for the purpose of revenge.
But I don't even know what or who am I revenging against... myself perhaps?

Actually this is okay. The whole event or incident might started off as some sort of revenge, as a coping skill to make yourself feel better, but eventually it will become a part of an adventure in your life time. Experiences rule.

So where ever life brings you, it should be at least interesting, if not eye opening.
Enjoy the moment and live out the best.

Artificial Coincidences

Coincidences occur often. I mean, won't it be nice to bump into your eye-candy in the stairs when you have a deadline to rush? Just like a little energy boost (or the extreme opposite as the eye-candy person would see you in your shitty clothes and tired face, but we'll save that for another time). But there are also times where one party creates coincidence on purpose. Things would seem wow it's such a coincidence! But actually it is artificial. Things don't just happen for no reason, There is always an initiation point or origin of some sort. Then people form an apparent coincident.

I don't believe in coincidences anymore.

Maybe that's not a good idea.

Good coincidences supposed to make one feel good.

Not the opposite.

Re-routing of Buses

I had quite a weird, yet familiar dream. I got picked up, traveled around, and dropped off by the bus I take to commute from my home to the outside. Yet in the dream, the bus wasn't running on the current route that it takes... It was traveling in unknown suburb avenues and streets, providing the passenger with no idea where they are as all the houses looked the same. The street facades seemed very familiar, but were they simply a composite of the dream, or they actually existed for a period of time, yet got erased as the suburb community developed and the bus service got re-routed?

I had a drawer inside the built-in closet in my room that is dedicated to bus tickets and bus transfers. There were a number of different designs of transfer slips, from the town/region that I live in. There were also some long distance travel bus tickets, dating from a few years ago. It is fascinating to think about how my community has developed over the past 10 years... Now I really hope that I would be able to find a bus schedule or bus route map somewhere in my house, one that was dated back years ago, particular my high school years, to see how the bus route has transformed as more and more cookie-cutter houses are being plotted.

The rapid transport system also had erased my high school memories. I used to get off the first bus at one corner of the intersection, then walk across one road to get the second bus' bus stop. However now, they had changed the locations of the bus stops, making me cross two times on the busy roads. There goes my memory of carrying a large portfolio, walking along with speeding vehicles to catch the bus to school...

Oh, did I mention the rapid transport system now had redirected me from passing by my high school if I'm traveling towards the subway station? They decided to route around the intersection where my school is to relieve the crazy traffic in rush hour. Of course I know that area has the busiest traffic and the worst congestion, yet now, I could only pass by the place filled with memories under rare occasion. Maybe the avoidance was a good idea after all, so memories of those years, that place, and the things that happened would not get override in my head.

It is very sad that the memory of my first bus rides in this town were overwritten by my now everyday commute routine. I want to recollect the memories of my past, the early memories of this forever growing community... yet unable to trace back everything as I cannot pause, nor stop myself from intaking new information every second.

How the machine works...

I'm more eccentric and spontaneous than I thought I was. I guess it all goes back to the level of intensity on my desires. If I really want to do certain things, I will put in effort to make sure they happen. And of course, on the other hand, I would absolutely let others influence my decisions when I don't really care.

It all depends on my effort of consciousness and seriousness on the particular thing, at that particular moment.

*check out another blog post about the operation of the machine here: http://threequartertranslation.blogspot.com/2009/03/manipulation-or-not.html

Step Beyond and Open the Door

Nothing matters anymore. Just focus on your dream, and your goals. Other things will eventually either resolve themselves, or they are really not that important.

Free yourself from those haunted memories. Walk yourself out of the box, closet, darkness, or whatever that is holding you back. Dismantle that boundary others and society force you to stay within. If you do not face it directly, it will continue to stress you until you are pieces apart.

Where is My Home?

After a full year of being outside where I consider as home for the past ten years, I started to get lost. I cannot stop to wonder where do I actually belong. Home? Home home? Home home home? What?

Until around I was ten, I thought I would belong to the small Asian Tiger city where my parents grew up, also where I had spent my childhood. However years after, I slowly emerged into the local culture of the new city I was forced to move to. Then I thought I could finally take this foreign city as my home.

Nope. I was wrong. Upon the return from my year-long trip of traveling and living elsewhere, I can only identify with certain parts of this city I called home. Everyday I suffer the tourist-ness within myself. This is a very horrible feeling, as I had always hated the sense of disconnection when I was living aboard in the Oriental Pearl. The in-between stage between local and foreign was hard to be understood by others who do not share the exact same background and experience.

Someone please come and help this homeless kid. Spread the love.

July 22nd.

Was it because of the solar eclipse that happened earlier today?
Or is it because there is only 2 months left until the fall equinox?

I don't know how I feel.
Awkward.
Box.
Flooded.
Heavy.
Peaceful in a non-peaceful way.
Unusual.
Weird.

How are you?

p.s. Sorry for my disappearance for the past 9 weeks. First blogger is denied access in China. Second it is because I was slowlygetting better, well sort of in certain aspects.

Website of the Day

Go to http://www.shanghaipride.com now! Even if you are not in Shanghai.

This is Shanghai's first ever pride festival. Although there's no parades (well it's China afterall), but there'll with a week (June 7-14) filled with various activities at night, plus a crazy featured day/night on Sat June 13rd.

As for the information on the website, actually at this moment isn't really updated. But whatever. I'm super busy this week again and I don't have time to think a lot on what I should blog about. And why am I so busy? More to come (:

Andy Warhol Quiz

Take the quiz here:
http://www.rainbownetwork.com/UserPortal/Quiz/Detail.aspx?ID=22722&sid=189

This time I'm actually a bit disappointed at my results...

You scored 15 out of 20 questions.

Not bad at all, all things considered. You are quite the Warhol buff, aren't you? We’re guessing that there’s probably a Marilyn Monroe (or is it Liza?) print in your house somewhere and you’ve probably even seen a couple of his films - and understood what the hell they were about!

But seriously, I didn't know about Andy's comment for Duran Duran and David Bowie's song. I guess it's time to upgrade myself.

Apology

To make up for my cheesy blog posts on two consecutive days (yes I realized the purses topic is indecent; the articles were prepared in advanced and I just released them whenever I'm too busy or exhausted to physically write something - I've been going crazy with multiple things this week), I decided that it would be nice to recommend my friend's blog to others. Just in case you haven't been to Saeran's blog the fischer random variation. via other portals (i.e. Shirley's mega special read list) before, the link is http://saeranv.blogspot.com/.

I truly admired Saeran's thoughts/thesis/ideas on architecture, politics, or anything really (okay maybe not about lesbians) - although most of the time my level of knowledge doesn't really go that intense and I'm not able to dig further than my own world of rainbows. But for those of you who love deep discussions, go find Saeran and have a chat over coffee with him.

Geek Fun of the Day

Is a LED text-scroller application.

(It's supposed to show here but it messed up my blog layout so I decided to remove it. My words are "where is my rainbow?" and the colour choice is grey.)

Sorta made my day. Okay not really.

Make your own here: http://www.crazyprofile.com/scroller/led-scroller-generator.asp

Volunteering = Satisfaction

Seriously, I was going to write a complaint post about my exhaustion for the past 2 days. I signed up to volunteer to create some graphics for something on the weekend, got replies back on Monday night, received additional information regarding my responsibilities during the day of Tuesday, and then they needed me to show them stuff by Wed afternoon (meeting is at Wed night). Woah. Really really short notice here - aka bedtime at 1am for a normal work day doing stuff not work-related and also forgot to post a blurb or a pretty picture on my blog. Great.

Anyway, what I want to say is even though at that extreme moment you are pissed/mad/angry/annoy/miserable/whatever on why you offered to volunteer for something, ultimately the result is giving yourself satisfaction. Like really good ones too. So think past that little bump and release out your energy at maximum power with lots of strength!

Ex-straight

The term ex-straight is invented after the creation of ex-gay, hah. I mean, if you think about the population, for sure the number of ex-straights would exceed the ex-gays exponentially.

Read the original article here: http://www.fridae.com/tc/newsfeatures/article.php?articleid=1553&viewarticle=1

* * *

前異性戀者
Song Ge, 04/17/2009

標題是拿一幫子恐同症患者，發明創造的一個反同恐同的特有名詞，開涮。

這個特有名詞，是甚麼呢？容我細細嘻嘻道來。

這幫子無可救藥的恐同症患者，多半也是一些宗教的原教旨主義者，他們宗教經典上的字字句句，統統是他們食古不化的信仰準則，一板一眼，萬萬不可做任何其他的解釋。

嗯哼，地球饒著太陽轉？經書上如何如何，地球上神創神定的宇宙中心，豈有繞著小小太陽轉的此理？所以不信伽利略，所以燒死哥白尼。

甚麼，人是猴子變的？經書上說了，先亞當，後夏娃，沒猴子啥事體呀？所以不信達爾文，還得奮起反擊，極力維護神創的權威。

他們奉行他們自己心目中，他們的上帝旨意，這會子輪到女女男男的人之大慾了，自然是一心想把俺們彎人扳直，反正是東看西看，怎麼看也是女愛女，男愛男地，不順眼，不順心，不合他們異性戀者心目中的心水，千辛萬苦，朝思暮想，挖空心思，日打主意夜想方，要將俺們同志們，扳成他們心目中，符合上帝旨意的「亞當愛夏娃」。

每逢遇到個把同志意志不堅定的哥兒們姐兒們，每逢他們的無處不在無所不能的上帝，感召，召喚，喚醒一個兩個「迷途的羔羊」，從此發誓，再不做同志，做了同志陣容的逃兵，男同志發誓再不對美男帥哥靚仔酷哥型男，想入非非，女同志發誓不再理會裊裊娜娜美嬌娘。

一旦他們萬中挑一，遇到這樣一個兩個例子，根本就還顧不上去驗證真假，反正是個如獲至寶，立馬宣佈，看看，上帝的威力無比，上帝的旨意不可抗拒，這些迷途的羔羊，總算是歸隊，回歸他們上帝的羊圈，改邪歸正，痛改前非，洗心革面，重新做人，成為他們宗教信奉者的美滿一員。

他們給這一個兩個不知真假的「治愈了」的同性戀者，取了一個可笑之極的專用名詞，叫做「前同性戀者」，ex-gay。

既然他們口口聲聲號稱，治愈了同性戀者，讓同性戀者，變成了「前」同性戀者，變成了響當當的「現」異性戀者，好啦好啦，就算是承認你們這一回，邏輯是說得過去吧，那，可不可以，讓俺順著你們的邏輯，也借來一用，以其人之術，反其人之身，且讓俺給你們，嘮嗑嘮嗑，擺擺龍門陣，講講閑白話，這人世間，不知幾多「前異性戀者」！

不錯，百分之九十九點九九九九點幾率，吾輩同志，都出生在異性戀母父之家，這表示，我們出生的第一天起，就是在一個異性戀的環境下，被異性戀者的母父撫養長大成人，學著老爸做男人，學著老媽做女人。

如果是中國大陸背景，得假設我們生於大約20年前，有幸逃過「一對夫婦，只准生一個孩子」的天條，有幸擁有知心貼心的姐姐妹妹，有幸跟頑皮搗蛋的哥哥弟弟，打打鬧鬧，一起長大。這兒又冒出另外一個百分之九十九點九九九九點幾率，那就是我們的兄弟姐妹，也非常可能會是異性戀者。

如此這般，我們就還有得一學，跟著哥哥學著溝女，釣馬子，拍婆子，全是異性戀男子的勾當，跟著姐姐呢，裝淑女，拿捏架子，扮演矜持，全是異性戀者男性，強加給女性的社會角色。

有了這樣純正異性戀者的背景天幕佈景，我們同志長大，我們同志成長，我們同志探索，我們同志摸索，我們同志自我設問，我們同志自我學習，哪怕是，我們同志隱隱約約自己知道，讓俺怦然心動的，其實是跟哥哥的馬子不同，不是豐乳肥臀的艷女，而是隔壁上房揭瓦的禿小子王二，可異性戀的爹媽，異性戀的哥哥，我們能跟誰訴說？

我們的第一個人生導師，我們的母父，是異性戀者，我們的榜樣，我們追隨模仿的角色模型（role model）,有時是我們的同年同學，有時是我們的年長學長，更多的時候，是我們同一個鍋吃飯的兄長，他們呢，也是如假包換的異性戀者。

所謂「男大當婚，女大當嫁」，姑且請容許俺略過同志朋友中，覺醒得早的，知道得早的，有清晰認同的，有尖銳矛盾的，有清楚痛苦掙扎的，有隱瞞，有欺騙，有違心，有順從，有孝心，有家族榮耀，有傳宗接代之人生大義，男同志最後不得不跟個一點感覺也沒有的女人結婚的。

我就先跳過這一群。

我只說有還有一種情形，是「大家戀愛，我也戀愛」，「大家男愛女女愛男，我也得照此辦理」，「大家水到渠成結婚，我也結婚」，「大家說豐乳肥臀是性感，我也找美艷女郎」。這些朋友，他們跟異性戀愛，他們跟異性結婚，他們追求異性，他們沒有衝突，他們沒有矛盾，他們沒有意識到壓力，他們順其自然，他們渾然天成，他們的人生，一步一個腳印，走得穩妥妥當。

也許也有怦然心動的男男動人一刻吧，不思量，不會意，也會給自己一個解釋，不過是青春期的迷茫，也許有銘心刻骨的女女思念吧，不追問，不深究，也不過是閨中密友，姐妹情深。

反正就這麼言正名順地，結婚，甚至生子，萬丈紅塵中的普通人生，柴米油鹽，尿布奶瓶，忙也是它，煩也是它，享受也是它，沉溺其中，也是它。

直到某年某月的某一天，因為一個地點，一個時刻，一個人物，一句話，一個眼神，一個笑容，一次字眼，一次玩笑，一種觸摸，一種暗示，一個時機，一個緣分，一個命運，說不清，道不明，不清不楚，不明不白，不知不道，反正，總歸，總而言之，九九歸一，一道閃電，劃過心靈的天空，天龍地虎，乾柴烈火，對上了眼，對上了暗號，對上了密碼，對上了鑰匙：

一個願意為自以為「百分百」的異性戀者，心中埋藏了九千九百九十九年度那枚男愛男女愛女的種子，有了陽光，有了空氣，有了水份，有了溫度，春雷一聲響，發芽了，不認不認，還得認，壓著壓著，還是壓不住，豁然開朗，雲開日出，罪也好，恥也好，病也好，惡也好，你是你是，你就是，是甚麼？是一個「女愛女，男愛男」的同性戀者。

而這個日子之前的那所有的人生，生你養你的異性戀者母父，帶你一起長大的異性戀者兄長姐妹，你渾然不知結婚的，你的異性戀者婚姻，你的異性戀者老公或老婆，你的異性戀者兒子或女兒，你在老板同事朋友鄰居面前的異性戀者好太太或好先生形象，就統統是過去時來，就可以叫你是一個「前異性戀者」。

奉勸那些恐同症患者，以為同性戀者如同傳染病一樣，會被教唆，被引誘，會被學會，被墮落，被腐朽，被敗壞，標簽由憑你貼吧，高帽子由憑你戴，遊街示眾的牌子，由憑你掛，我只想輕聲問上一句：

你們費了九牛二虎之力，才勉勉強強磕磕碰碰地扳直了一個兩個，滿世界尋找，也才找到寥寥可數的幾個未知真假的「前同性戀者」。

而在人類社會的異性戀汪洋大海，滔天巨浪中，隨波逐流中，悠哉悠哉享受老婆孩子熱炕頭的女人男人，這麼多的社會資源，擁有全社會的資源支持，一統天下的郎情妾意，一統天下的情郎情妹，當著女男雙方所有家庭成員社會交往的朋友的面，吹吹打打的民俗婚禮，或者肅靜莊嚴的教堂婚禮，有些並且是兒女雙全，不知幾多的同性戀心目中的好太太，好丈夫，咋就一眨眼，成了「前異性戀者」？

同性戀在你們心目中神憎鬼厭，同性戀被你們詛咒，同性戀被你們謾罵，同性戀被你們強制電擊，強制灌藥，強制閹割，強制壓抑我們自己的情慾性慾，駭人聽聞的種種迫害手段，都讓你們使盡，為甚麼，依舊阻擋不住，前異性戀者，赴湯蹈火的腳步？！

The Left-over Pieces of Rice

During lunch today, I couldn't stop wondering about the last bits of rice and dishes while I was finishing my meal. I remembered since I was a little girl, my mother and grandma used to scare me with the two stories if I have any left-overs, including tiny pieces of rice, after each meal.

The first story was told by my mother - it was about this girl never finishes her entire meal, having bits and pieces of food left over in her bowl and making the table messy. Of course, she grew up and acne had popped up on her face continuously.

The second story came from my grandma, which had been passed on verbally through her maternal family. Obviously, the story was about this girl never finishes her entire meal, leaving bits of rice behind. She ended up marrying a husband with broken teeths.

As I was trained to not have left-overs (yes, by those "horrible" stories), so now I rarely leave any pieces of food behind. But I can't stop wondering why do acne and marrying an teeth-less husband would freaken a young girl? What are the beauty standards of today's world? Why do a girl have to marry, and does theat person has to be a man? How about scientific explaination on the creation of acne, as it is produced by the over-reactive testosterone hormone which doesn't really relate to the left-over rice pieces?

Kyoto Box

It's such a smart idea to invent a cheap solar-powered cardboard-made cooking box! This Kyoto box was made with 2 card boxes and an acrylic cover - with Jon Bohmer as its inventor. He designed this product for areas and locations which are less fortunate to have safe and clean cooking facilities. Also the cardboard cooking box is said to help a family to prevent 2 tonnes of carbon emission per year.

As for the design, the Kyoto box consists a layer of newspaper or straw in between the boxes acts as insulation, with foil on the outside and black paint on the inside of the boxes absorb and capture solar heat. And the cost is only about $5, and can be produced at almost any cardboard factories!

Warhol Beauty Philosophy

How can one live without knowing Andy Warhol's philosophy on beauty? Andy knows everything, from art to business to beauty. (All quotes came from The Philosophy of Andy Warhol: From A to B and Back Again.)

Weight isn’t important the way the magazines make you think it is. I know a girl who just looks at her face in the medicine cabinet mirror and never looks below her shoulders, and she’s four or five hundred pounds but she doesn’t see all that, she just sees a beautiful face and therefore she thinks she’s a beauty. And therefore I think she’s a beauty, too, because I usually accept people on the basis of their self-images, because their self-images have more to do with the way they think than their objective-images do. Maybe she’s six hundred pounds, who knows. If she doesn’t care, I don’t.

Be proud of yourself no matter how your body is. You are you. Believe in yourself. If you have the confidence, f*ck the other people. They have their problems. You can see it in the next quote too:

Beauty really has to do with the way a person carries it off. When you see “beauty” it has to do with the place, with what they’re wearing, what they’re standing next to, what closet they’re coming down the stairs from.

But then one's beautiness also can affected by other variables...

Sometimes something can look beautiful just because it’s different in some way from the other things around it. One red petunia in a window box will look very beautiful if all the rest of them are white, and vice-versa.

This is very true in a way. The surrounding does provide a backdrop that either compliment or disturb one's beautiness. (okay this kind of contradicts the first quote...) And here comes the last quote of the day:

If you’re naturally pale, you should put on a lot of blush-on to compensate. But if you’ve got a big nose, just play it up, and if you have a pimple, put on the pimple cream in a way that will make it really stand out — “There! I use pimple cream!” There is a difference.

This is meant to poke fun at people including myself - many thought the use of make-up (without proper skills and materials) would enhance one on how others would perceive them, but really they are just self-comforting.

What is your beauty philosophy?