Caught in My Burble

Fetish of the Day
Smoky Eyes. Mine.

I'm having yet another hugely egotistical day. I don't know where these days come from. OK, I do, they come from some strange hypomanic etherspace. This one, in particular, I think I've induced with work and stress. Of course, it won't bother me until later, but I'll save that for, well, later.

When I do my eyes up for work, they are perfectly, slightly, smoky. Just enough to be sexy but not enough to look like a street walker. I think it works really well with the black hair, dark eyes. and pale skin.

I find small perfections very enjoyable. My right eye is actually quite lovely, my left not so much. OK, you might not see the difference if I didn't tell you, but you see more of my lid on the right. Just the right amount. The left you don't see as much of and so it looks less open. (This runs in the family by the way. My brother had an absolute complex over it when he had headshots taken for a modeling agency.)

[Editor's note: I have a similar asymmetry in my lips, which is unfortunate as symmetry and the ratio 1.618 are the basis of human beauty. But I digress...]

And so, when I have the time, and I bother to put in the effort, my eyes can look just like in a magazine. Simple smoky, grey perfection with black, splayed lashes. A very pleasing aesthetic.

Now maybe this doesn't constitute a fetish as you can't rub them or lick them (please)….

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Maybe it's just a point of magnetism. Magnetically attracted to my own reflection. Isn't' that how people in fables meet an unfortunate end? Or get too much plastic surgery or something.

It's so me. I either hate myself to the point of wishing dismemberment or I'm actually intoxicated by my own reflection. (Just parts of me of course. Rest assured I still hate myself as a whole.) I'm a yin yang but without the lines touching. It's like my yin is in one state and my yang is in another and I'm always busy running back and forth.

Heh. Keeps me busy.

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