unorganized/archived.
November 15, 2010
Day 319
When I was growing up, my face would break out uncontrollably and my parents would always look at me if I suffered from a disease. They would always take me to the doctor to take a look at my face. The doctor would prescribe me medication for my face which actually worked, but over time it just didn't work anymore. My parents constantly buy me facial products that would clear up my skin, but they tend to fail from time to time. My parents didn't like what was on my face. When they constantly buy me these kinds of products, I felt like they feared that I was going turn out ugly and never be liked by any woman out in the world cause of this small problem.
My parents wanted a part of me to be perfect. It wasn't cause of who I am or what I am, but it was how I looked. I looked like the type who wouldn't be able to fit in with the crowd, who wouldn't be able to be liked cause how I looked. And if theres no woman out there who likes me for who I am and not the way I look, then I have to keep searching. It may seem ridiculous and childish or unrelated, but I don't want to make anything perfect about myself especially my face. Perfection doesn't exist in my universe.
November 15, 2010
Day 319
When I was growing up, my face would break out uncontrollably and my parents would always look at me if I suffered from a disease. They would always take me to the doctor to take a look at my face. The doctor would prescribe me medication for my face which actually worked, but over time it just didn't work anymore. My parents constantly buy me facial products that would clear up my skin, but they tend to fail from time to time. My parents didn't like what was on my face. When they constantly buy me these kinds of products, I felt like they feared that I was going turn out ugly and never be liked by any woman out in the world cause of this small problem.
My parents wanted a part of me to be perfect. It wasn't cause of who I am or what I am, but it was how I looked. I looked like the type who wouldn't be able to fit in with the crowd, who wouldn't be able to be liked cause how I looked. And if theres no woman out there who likes me for who I am and not the way I look, then I have to keep searching. It may seem ridiculous and childish or unrelated, but I don't want to make anything perfect about myself especially my face. Perfection doesn't exist in my universe.