I am never going to be Cinderella nor will I ever be a tall
skinny beautiful blonde with big boobs who is gorgeous enough to win a beauty
pageant to prance around in glittery crown no matter how much part of me wishes
I could do that. Let’s just say I lost
my slipper a long time ago and no one has or will pick it up ever at this point
so the dogs stole it, broke it over the gutter and the pieces are lost for all
eternity. I have always dreamed of
happily ever after only now to realize it does not exist in reality because
Cinderella got what she wanted at the end and my life does not seem to have the
misguided fortune of travelling even a paved road.
I always thought beauty was in the eye of the beholder until
I realized that in my almost thirty years of life that even the people closest
to you who you think will see passed your potential outer beauty can still only
see things skin deep no matter how beautiful the inside. With this let me just tell you that you can
have my personality meaning, please dissect my brain and throw the rest of it
away since it is useless and a waste. The
thought that something is attractive should diminish the thought of words such
as “fat,” “ugly,” “not sexually attractive,” or “not fuckable,” but there is no
veto for these terms especially once they are said and out in the open because
they cannot be taken back ever. Instead
they sit there like a mine field waiting to explode at the very suspect of
being disrupted, but sadly when the terms come from one mouth the mine explodes
constantly leaving questions of “Why am I not good enough? Can I ever be good enough and if by society’s
standards I do become good enough will I, could I ever be good enough for you?”.
Sounds silly, huh? I
think back to the movie “American Beauty” reanalyzing the definition of ‘beauty’
wondering how many people could see a
bag that moves around in the wind as a
dance that slowly moves to a beat that could probably only be heard by a deaf person. I sink back to my favorite
childhood movie “Beauty and the Beast” wondering if Belle ever could have worn
leather chaps instead of be in a high maintenance ballroom gown riding down the road on a Harley with no other earthly possessions except the necessities. I wonder if my favorite actor, who seems to
be my ideal type of guy, could really see a person as who they are instead of what they
look like or if he is just as shallow as the rest of the world. I know this can be taken the wrong way, but it
is severely hard to find people who see more or see beyond what is in front of them, so does this define that a blind
sees more than people who are not blind? I wish I was blind.
What troubles me throughout this whole thought process is
that I had a bit more faith in mankind thinking that out there someone sees
people the same way I do meaning that my attraction to your personality
eventually has nothing to do with your looks, your skin, or your shell. I loved you when you were skinny, I loved you
when you were fat, I loved you when your clothes did not fit, and I loved you
when no one else saw you. Some things
you start with in life with one intention and somehow end up in a different
destination then you had hoped for leaving an unsettled feeling of utter disappointment because you look around you seeing that everyone else is happy in this spot, but you.
Random thought: I might as well have paddled up shit creek only to drop
into a mist over the waterfall not knowing the rocks at the bottom beheld my
destiny…..shit creek with no paddle.
My shell has become the epitome of my insides because one
cannot exist without the other. So what
is ‘beauty’ then? Obviously it is not
the soul or the personality of a person since people cannot look pass skin to
see it so it must be the outside shell, correct? Or….maybe it is that moment when you lose
something that was important because you took it for granted and when you
realized too late you should have chased after it, it suddenly ceases to exist
but only in a dream. Maybe beauty is in
the moment……
My beauty, if I can find it, does not exist here anymore but dwells far away in a place untouchable by the skin because the skin was the least important part of the package. I'll have to find it some day when I care to look, but for now my tears are going to fade taking away each trait that makes me who I was since I am lost. I cannot help it anymore that I changed. I cannot help that my view and intentions changed and I thought that would make a person happy to be recognized as more than skin deep. For a person who looks at his/her self as skin deep I was obviously wrong by giving this person the benefit of a doubt since I figured you would not want to judge people the same way they judge you.
Random thought: How did Shallow Hal get the girl?
