On a night that I stayed up til the six a.m with insomniac creativity, I painted my toenails.
My toenails used to grow inward and get infected. Pus and blood would ooze out. It was painful to endure but even more painful to treat. So I would usually let them rot and stink in my brown blood-crusted socks as long as possible. My doctors said I had the worst ingrown toenails they'd ever seen.
I finally got them so infected that the roots fell out. So the doctor lined the bed of my toe with rat poison and now I will never have another toenail on my left foot, and my right toenail will always be thin and short.
So I painted them with sparkly red nail polish. I did a horrible job, cause I don't usually do this. I like how covering my scars with glitter and color and still doesn't make it look pretty. Another reflection of society? Or I did it cause I was bored.
The paint came off in a few days, but showering in the dorm showers was a little embarrassing.
Another thing I can do with my toes is suck them:
