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You ever notice how your face becomes this accidental social media post when you've got a bruise? It's like your face is saying, "Hey world, guess what happened to me!" I mean, no one ever posts a selfie with a bruise and the caption, "Just moisturizing too aggressively, no big deal." It's always a story. I walked into work the other day with a fresh bruise, and my colleague was like, "Whoa, what happened to your face?" I'm thinking, "Oh, nothing much, just had a heated argument with my coffee table, and let's just say the table won." It's like I have this ongoing wrestling match with inanimate objects, and I'm losing spectacularly.
Seems like bruises have become my own form of abstract art. I should probably open a gallery and call it "The Uncoordinated Collection." You'd walk in, and there'd be a painting of a door frame with a caption that reads, "This one left a mark." Modern art, right?
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You know you've hit a new level of adulthood when you start giving advice on how to avoid facial injuries. My grandma, bless her heart, once told me, "Honey, always look where you're going, and if you can't, at least wear a helmet indoors." Solid life advice right there. I'm thinking of starting a self-help book titled, "Bruised But Not Broken: A Guide to Navigating Life's Obstacles." Chapter one: "Embracing the Bump." Chapter two: "Turning Trips into Triumphs." I can see it now, Oprah holding up my book, saying, "You get a bruise, and you get a bruise, everybody gets a bruise!"
In the end, maybe having a bruised face is just life's way of reminding us that, hey, we're all a little rough around the edges. So, here's to embracing the bumps, both literal and metaphorical, because let's face it – life is one clumsy adventure.
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I've realized that having a bruised face comes with its own set of social rules. Like, if you see someone with a black eye, the worst thing you can do is ask, "What happened?" It's like we're part of some secret society, and the first rule of Bruised Face Club is you don't talk about Bruised Face Club. But then there are those brave souls who ignore the rules. They come up to you, wide-eyed, and ask, "Did you get into a fight?" And you're standing there like, "No, Karen, I didn't get into a fight; I just had an intense disagreement with gravity."
I'm thinking of printing business cards that say, "It's just a bruise. No need to call the authorities." It's not a cry for help; it's just a clumsy person's badge of honor. I'm not a victim; I'm just navigating a hazardous world, one collision at a time.
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You ever try to cover up a bruise with makeup? It's like playing hide and seek with your own face. You're there with concealer, foundation, and a prayer, hoping that no one notices the Technicolor masterpiece underneath. I tried explaining to my friend that my bruise is the latest trend in avant-garde makeup. It's called the "Confrontational Chic." She wasn't buying it and suggested I invest in some sunglasses. I'm like, "Great idea, because nothing says inconspicuous like wearing shades indoors."
I'm thinking of starting a fashion line for clumsy people. We'll have a collection of oversized sunglasses, scarves, and hats – the holy trinity of hiding. Fashion with a purpose, they'll call it. Because why let a little bruise ruin your style game?
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