makeup
last day of school is tomorrow. i'm thinking of dressing up. so i was lying in bed moments ago questioning... and here's what i came up with.
1. why am i so opposed to makeup?
the answer was a little tough to figure out. i think that by always disliking the popular folk, i've somehow turned every attribute of them into something to despise. i don't wear skirts or heels or take more than 10 minutes with my hair in the morning. and why is that? because i don't want to be labeled as one of them. but why resist? i don't have to necessarily associate with them in order to look nice and feel good about myself. it's as if i make myself wallow in self-pity because i refuse to accept the simple cure.
times are changing. magazines are unreal. but perhaps i've always aspired to be one of those people that wake up beautiful. no one is. no one at all. but i've been blessed with bad skin from my mother and there's still the whole trichotillomania issue... it's now the worst it's ever been. perhaps makeup would make me feel better about myself in that i would at least stop picking. i think i do it out of habit more than anything these days - i've got everything i want right now except a face.
i also don't want to become dependent on it. i want to look nice both ways (natural and with a little makeup)... but i can't do that unless everything grows back in and my zits clear up, yeah. and i don't want to look like an - ahem - slut, with the greasy eyeliner and streaked powdery skin and pouty pink lips dripping of color.
2. ... why?
why do i keep picking... it feels so good. i'd rather it be my hair than the obvious parts of my face, especially my eyes. he tells me i have beautiful eyes and sometimes i just want to scream at him that it's not true. i'm no longer afraid of what the stranger thinks... i just want to be pretty in my own eyes. get rid of the 8 or so pimples around my mouth from where i hold my hand when i'm in uncomfortable situations (like art class) and grow everything back out. a shorter haircut would give me an excuse to use eye makeup, but it'd have to do it right and, knowing me, it wouldn't work.
i don't know. i'm just tired of feeling so... drab. unworthy. he's too good for me and i'm waiting for him to realize it. i want to be who he knows i am... somewhere inside. hiding. and the first step is to fix my appearance.
at least i'm not fat. there's my vain moment of the day. i have to wake up in 6 hours and shave and put on a skirt and foundation and all that crap just to be like them for a day and feel special and protected and more self-conscious than i've ever been in my life.
it's a crime to feel good, you know. it always has been.
not reading this over for any translations lost between my brain to you. i just don't work your way.