So, my first encounter with the hippies occured when one of them asked if I was loney. I guess I was. An outcast and loner at heart, I immediately made new friends. They were smoking weed and decided that I could use some face painting. It was great. I went home that day with a floral face and my mother loved it. I was astonished. I had to lie as to where I got such as wonderful work of art but I ate my dinner and she soon forgot about it and so did I. What I didn't forget was the smell of weed and how much I loved the psychedelic clothing worn by my new friends and, of course, my floral face.
Posted by varaderovintage
at 4:22 AM EDT
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