went shopping last night, and I kept wondering the same notion over and over again; if you have any kind of companion whatsoever, why on God's great earth would you they let you leave the house in your contemporary shape. I saw a mother with a son, the son looked like a portly standard human being, but the mother looked ghastly. Her eyebrows seemed to be drawn on by 5 year old with an orange sharpie, and I mean like decomposing putrid carrot orange. Her face had an air of sadness as her son helped her move along the cart with her. The woman's age was about 60 and her son around the age of 40. She had wiry fair sand brown hair with grey roots, and her skin was weathered. She walked so tired and I had a brooding idea : "Why doesn't her poor son help her with her appearance, why would he not take care of someone who for so long cared for him?"
20/11 10:59
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