On I burn. Churning my direction. Quench my thirst with gasoline! So gimme fuel, Gimme fire, Gimme that which I desire!
If I feel I need to apologize, it's for all the wrong reasons. I feel sorry for the fact that I'm fat, that I'm ugly, that my clothes aren't right, that I don't have the perfect smile and that I'm not of a stellar personality. These things I've already known, known for hours, known for days, known for years. Such items are trivial in my mind, things I've gotten used to telling myself, things I've grown accustomed to knowing. The issue is not with myself, I know for myself who I truly am, and that these trivial things, these little insignificant items of my personal being, I can ignore. I can ignore the voice in my head that tells me these negative things, that reminds me every moment I am awake, and floods every moment I am not, that I am not the perfect being I wish to be.
At the same time, I can be torn down so easily. Such a short few seconds, in one normal breath and one single phrase uttered out loud from within another's voice. An outside voice. A real voice, that belongs to a real person. In 3 seconds, 2 words, and 1 single voice, all confidence I posess, any feelings of worth and every ounce that tells the world who I am disapears.
It's never easy trying to take pictures worthy of a “pinup” genre by yourself. It's even harder to be a fair critic and choose pictures you believe make you look good and edit them properly for print. It's d*** f***ing impossible to feel any self-worth at all when your father walks in before you can close PhotoShop, and the only words he utters from his mouth after seeing you frantically try and close the open images of yourself is “Eww… so ugly!”
If only I didn't agree with him. Maybe I could solve this mess all by myself. And stand up for myself. But I don't. And I can't. And I won't.
