they know clear skin, long hair, thin waist, long legs, what to shave and how and when, and how smooth it should be and at what times. they know what to say and when and what to do and how to act, and when i say that i mean they know what they’ve been told by the girls in the movies, and the shows, and by that i mean megan fox and fuck maybe even audrey and they’ll quote marylyn but never act how she did, at least not up front only behind closed doors.
and this is all just a stereo type i’ve based them on, and hell most of them base themselves on and for that i’m sorry but i guess that’s gender roles.
and gender roles are just an idea i subscribe to, to criticize and judge and that part is my fault.
and hell, from the other perspective, i’m the dyke with the short hair and the clothes from the boys section of urban outfitters and the guy’s clothes i get from the thrift stores that i cut and sew and alter to make them seem original, so i don’t become that dyke with the short hair and the clothes from urban outfitters and the guy’s clothes from the thrift store.
cause hey, i know plenty of girls just like that. and plenty of guys just like that. and if i do that, i’m them, and if i am them, then that means i can’t make fun of them and i lose a lot of “original” comic material to keep myself entertained.
but then again, the girls who i make fun of, who don’t know much about anything, maybe they’re doing the same thing. i make myself the same, but different, so that i’m not weird enough to be a freak but not the same enough to be looked over. and maybe they do the same thing.
and we all do the same thing, because we all have the same goals, and it’s to love, and survive, and be happy. it’s not even the natural instinct to procreate anymore, because we don’t even grasp the concept, we don’t understand how to be the selfless.
and maybe that’s because it’s pretty inevitable that everything’s going to shit. so why bring something else into this world and force them to strive so hard to love, and survive and be happy. because as simple as that sounds it’s actually incredibly incredibly difficult.
maybe that’s why we’re so selfish. maybe that’s an excuse. that part i can’t decipher right now.
but what it comes down to is we’re all the same enough to be accepted but we’re all different enough to stand out, or at least the “fittest” of us are, because we know that keeps us going. just like the bird with the brightest colors, and the fish with the strongest fins gets laid because with that little bit of difference, it makes them unique and strong enough to be noticed, and all their goals accomplished.
it all comes back to this balance. and it’s represented thru every single instance of nature. give me anything of nature and i’ll prove it. that’s what it’s all about. balance.
and we, as in the human race, are very bad at balance. and that my friends is why we fail. because there’s a difference between that little extra that keeps us unique, and the part that pushes us off the edge.
and this, this entire fucking drunken rant is a very good example of what fucks up the balance. not playing by the rules. not doing as told. not keeping the balance, and fucking it all up.
that’s what i tend to do at any given opportunity. always a little too intense. always too much.
and that my friends it what dooms me to fail. and that my friends is what proves scientifically why it’s not exactly ideal for me to survive.
and that’s why there’s a pretty good chance i won’t.
“took another shot have another great though movie based idea.”—the things drunk sarah texts to her boyfriend. though i feel i should include that the first great idea involved a foursome and when i wake up i may realize that’s not such a good idea.
it really isn’t that depressing but it got to me, and i haven’t really stopped thinking about it the past three days.
not many people have ever made negative comments on my physical appearance. so few actually that i can remember who and what they said. keith’s brother kevin said i had a big nose. blake said i have a big nose. blake said i was chubby. sean has called me chubby. and those are really it. they make me really self conscious, but i’ve accepted them and that’s it. amanda, who was saying things about my body to hurt me, only said i have no ass or much in the breast area. and that’s fine because one, i’m small and thin, so that’s kind of a given in most cases. not even amanda, trying to hurt my feelings brought up what was brought up to me the other day. those are really the only negative things anyone has ever said about my body. at least to my face, and that’s fine.
well at work the other day a little girl was waiting in line when we were really busy. she was asking a lot of questions and very impatient. i’m pretty sure she was four or five, no older. and the people in front of her consisted of three kids, all with different parents who were all with them. big group of people. and this little girl asked me why i have a bunch of red spots on my face. annnnd that hurt. i didn’t know what to say.
no one’s every brought up my facial scarring before. and i think that’s been really nice of them, because i mean it’s obvious i have it, but they don’t say a thing. and whenever i’m broken out i tend to cover parts of my face with my hands a lot. or i’ll pull a hoodie up to cover it. so it’s obvious i’m self conscious.
well this little girl asked me why my face had a bunch of red spots. and i blanked. and her dad said, “oh…… uhm.. well honey, it’s because she’s.., how old are you?” and i said, “i’m eighteen.” and he told his daughter, “it’s because she’s eighteen and when you’re eighteen you’ll have them too.”
and i thought that was nice. i felt better.
but still, it’s been getting to me since she said it. there have been days where i refuse to leave the house because i feel so horrible about it. i’ve canceled plans because i don’t want anyone to see. the only cover up i’ve used that actually covers it up makes me break out way more. i’ve been on a ton of medications for it, and i’m finally on a pill for it that works. the only issue is that for the first 8 to 12 weeks of it, it literally creates acne out of any slightly dirty pores, and it pushes all cyst acne out, which is purely genetic and rests under your skin. my face has been clear a lot lately, i only break out during or slightly before periods. but when i break out, i literally cut out blemishes with razors, and safety pins, and needles, and knives. because i can’t stand them. and then i scar. i scar a lot. badly.
and that, little girl, is why i have red spots all over my face. and i know you didn’t mean to, but since you mentioned it i’ve gone back to being as nervous about it as i was before.