She's concealing the dismal circles around her almond eyes, proof that she's abusing caffeine. She's casting a coal shadow on her eyelids and it's obviously making her insides hurl. She's mixing the fine, soot particles against her pale and wan bronze, a sign that she's innately multi-coloured. Same goes for her short-lived lashes; she's painting them with a volumisant, recourbant tube of mascara.
She's meddling with her own lips and she's daubing them with a coral rust pencil. She's pausing. She's looking for more flaws to conceal. She's sharpening her cosmetic armaments and then she's reaching the finale. Nothing is becoming grand, she scours. She's ending the masquerade by faking some reds on her zygomatic arch. She might be having a ball today.
She's fabricating. She's forging. She's losing her favourite game.
Author
Eяin Heяoin
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Matte and Waterproof
She's concealing the dismal circles around her almond eyes, proof that she's abusing caffeine. She's casting a coal shadow on her eyelids and it's obviously making her insides hurl. She's mixing the fine, soot particles against her pale and wan bronze, a sign that she's innately multi-coloured. Same goes for her short-lived lashes; she's painting them with a volumisant, recourbant tube of mascara.
She's meddling with her own lips and she's daubing them with a coral rust pencil. She's pausing. She's looking for more flaws to conceal. She's sharpening her cosmetic armaments and then she's reaching the finale. Nothing is becoming grand, she scours. She's ending the masquerade by faking some reds on her zygomatic arch. She might be having a ball today.
She's fabricating. She's forging. She's losing her favourite game.
She's meddling with her own lips and she's daubing them with a coral rust pencil. She's pausing. She's looking for more flaws to conceal. She's sharpening her cosmetic armaments and then she's reaching the finale. Nothing is becoming grand, she scours. She's ending the masquerade by faking some reds on her zygomatic arch. She might be having a ball today.
She's fabricating. She's forging. She's losing her favourite game.
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Born in the mid-80s, Erin Herøin is a marveller of non-sequitur writing, cinematic films, & analogue photography.
Before, she used to be an aspiring physician; now, she is a newbie bassist who has 5.50/5.00 eyes & black tattoos on her right arm.
She's the former chief editor of Lomography's international magazine, the founder of Whilst We Wait, & the author of Paranoirexia.
Today, she curates and directs Parallel Planets, an online publication on creatives worldwide.
She dwells in the Eastern border of Manila with her pet pussies.
Before, she used to be an aspiring physician; now, she is a newbie bassist who has 5.50/5.00 eyes & black tattoos on her right arm.
She's the former chief editor of Lomography's international magazine, the founder of Whilst We Wait, & the author of Paranoirexia.
Today, she curates and directs Parallel Planets, an online publication on creatives worldwide.
She dwells in the Eastern border of Manila with her pet pussies.
