Guided by my hormones of teenager in green converse and boots 6days/7 , I walked through the exit door of a store, satisfaction, pride and high heels in hand. I remember that before paying at the checkout, I looked at my money, smiled, got excited, looked at it again and gave it. First "salary", first pair of high heels. Suddenly, seems like I have no more problems with money, so with my camera's repair right? Calm your joys, my camera is still deeply comatose and needs benefactors' donations. Buying high heels was some kind of emergency. They're rad, they make you feel taller and enhance the appearance, they're almost as cool as green converse but above all, they're the main weapon against Bouzbals. I could wear them and learn walking everyday after school, but seems like if they were intended to take refuge between my bag and my best friend's closet, fearing my mum's "Mnin jawk flouss? Chnou be3ti 3awtani? Cheitana nti".
Actually, I didn't sell anything, my bookshelves are still full of books, or more accurately ornamentation, when preparatory class' books concerned, clothes I hate are still in my closet, and everything is in place in my room. By using the term "salary" , I was talking about the result of something I did, nothing very special actually, except a series of photos for Yasmina Benchekroun's music album. A rebel young soul, with an amazing voice.
0 comments:
Post a Comment