Lost in her Wonderland

It's Thursday and my day feels green. It's the only day I don't have to work and work and work; my catch-up day, my day. School and work, work and school, that's all I ever do. I'm poor and spend all my money on frivolous things like manuscripts, movies, plays, music and lots of things.

My favorite is makeup, Stila to be exact. The library is where I put it on, never to be seen again; lost in my own world, my own time, my own space. That makeup led me into the world, the imaginary world. And near the bookshelves I see this tall, dark and handsome man glancing my way. We decide to start playing a little game of peek-a-boo with the bookshelves. I walk with my lipstick in one hand and free the other to pull the books from the shelves. We play a game of peek-a-boo, but I am always one step ahead of my Latin tango lover. He pulls a book off of shelf B and I off of C. He catches on though and slowly he sees one eye and then the other. He sees sparkly blue diamonds in the sky and I see green grass from the meadow down the street.

My tango lover reaches the end of the row and grabs my hand pulling me closer, the lights dim and the music blares. Our hips start moving in sync with one another's movements. Oh my tango lover. Oh no, damn it, my lipstick is gone. My imaginary world is gone; my lover is gone.

I sit back down at the sandy tan colored table and sift through my Coach purse. Oh good. My favorite is Stila #16 lip liner and Nicole lip color. I pull out Nicole and begin to place it upon my top and then bottom lips and my dream starts over again.

My makeup, my music, my world, lost in insanity, lost in me. Just like Alice was lost in her Wonderland and the Muppets took Manhattan, I became my own character, freelancing my work; work of lost worlds, dinosaurs, apes and kitties. Worlds of unknown. Yearning to be free, to be my own person, not someone else's model of perfection. Green with envy, with jealousy, with sadness, with no real model of perfection. Life changes constantly we should never look back, dwell on the past, only dwell on the future and never look back.