it is contradictory to wonder at my growth and ability to adjust when every day it gets harder and harder to look myself in the eye. there is something helpless and solid about feeling ugly; words don’t change it, opinions don’t change it, makeup doesn’t change it; you just exist on a plane where there is no getting away from yourself and yourself is not the self you can stand to look at.
it’s especially strange coming from a place where this is not familiar territory for me; i do not know insecurities.
until today, until the mornings, until the harsh quiet tongue of those who know no better than to speak freely; (always check over your shoulder). and there is something final about hearing something about yourself when the speaker doesn’t know youre listening; because you know they’re not editing and you know that’s truly how you’re seen by this person.
no matter how insignificant, no matter how void an opinion, it is still just that: an opinion.
and in mine, i can’t stand this person anymore and everything i do to make her tolerable just throws in my face how far off the target i am.
It is unattainable quiet in my heart of hearts that haunts me, where has all the silence gone?
Garbanzo Bae 