Anyway, without further ado, here are the first three days worth of my writing:
8/19
A lot of times when I'm out in public I envy the girls who are all put together. You know the girls I mean. The ones with their hair fashionably wavy and frizz-free. The ones who contoured their faces and filled in their eyebrows. Their outfits are as classy as their shoes are impractical. The time and energy they put into their appearance makes them feel beautiful and I'm happy for them. A part of me wonders if I could ever look like that. If I spent an hour on my hair and learned how to use makeup properly maybe I could turn heads, too.
I guess the reason I am dwelling on this is because I woke up feeling ugly. I'm sure everyone has those days where the same face they were satisfied with yesterday has suddenly mutated into something intolerable. I looked in the mirror this morning and all I could see was dirty hair and hormonal skin. I splashed water on my face, tied my hair back and refused to look in the mirror again. I don't know how those dolled up girls handle days like these. Do they go the extra mile and add a little extra concealer, maybe choose a more vivid shade of lipstick to draw attention away from any imperfections? All I know is that I didn't want to leave the house without a paper bag over my head.
Magic happened after my run, though. I took a shower and somehow both the sweat and the ugly washed off. I "washed" my hair, shaved my legs, and suddenly I felt pretty again. Sure my skin still looks like it did when I was 15 and my grays are unwieldy but I can see the pretty again. I don't have any makeup on and the only thing I did to my hair was add some product to it and let it air dry wild and curly. I'm wearing a pair of cut off jean shorts I've had for a decade and a blue target v-neck tee. I look like me. Tan legs, bare feet, wild hair. I may not turn every head but I am beautiful in my own natural way. All it took was a little self care to remember that. I hope those other girls feel as pretty as I do when their faces are bare and their fancy clothes are off.
8/20
The silence is deafening. All the words left unsaid feel like brands against my skin. I don't know why not talking about things is so painful for me. So many people live their whole lives ignoring things that matter and I can hardly stand it for a day. It eats away at me like a parasite, slowly churning my insides to liquid. I cannot live like that. I cannot always be the one to break the silence. I cannot be the only one who cares enough to bring up the tough issues. I know that I'm a complicated person. I know that for all the effort I put into being an open book I still only reveal what I want you to see. Even knowing this about myself I always expect others to be different, better. I am chronically disappointed in both myself and others. I cannot adjust my expectations to match reality. The pessimism I routinely display is just a defense mechanism to protect my constantly battered internal optimist. When I confront people with their/our issues I feel like an asshole. Why must I rain on their parade/bring them down into my negativity? I do it because I firmly believe that truth is always better than any beautifully packaged illusion could ever be.
8/21
I'm convinced our brain treats falling in love the same way it does childbirth. It tricks us into forgetting how painful the experience really was so we are willing to go through it all again. After that first time, your brain only retains the warm and fuzzy shit so you actually WANT to fall in love again. It's actually a desirable concept.
When it starts again with someone new all you are left with is a rudimentary understanding of the process but you have long forgotten the nitty-gritty details that really matter. You've forgotten how unsure and insecure and uncomfortable you feel in the beginning. You forgot how little control you have over the situation. You forgot that you were weakened by your own emotions. That you could no longer view things with clarity. You were easily swept away.
But you've forgotten all that stuff. It's alright lemmings. To the cliff everyone! Take that leap!
Flying is fun...
...until that inevitable splat at the bottom.
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