Unbearable : Monday, Dec. 09, 2002 @ 6:34 pm

Okay... time for a real entry while I procrastinate reading and analyzing the last 100 pages of Huck Finn.

I work as an "office aid" for the library until the end of this quarter. Just a filler so I don't have to take some lame ass excused for a class and can get some homework done (on red days at least). Well it is extremely hot in the library. The type of hot where you're like "Is that me with a fever or is it just the crazy old librarian cranking the heat?". Yes well it was so hot that I was this tempted to take off my sweater.
Never a good idea. I went with tank tops this summer and you wouldn't belive the stares/questions I got from people. My art collection scares them... I've got a diary on my arms. I do, too. Some people just can't read my language. Or they interpet it too deeply. No, I'm not fucked up. Yes, I've had hard times. Yes, I had an unconventional way of dealing with it. Yes, those are razor blade scars. A few are exacto knifes too. Deal.
My own grandfather has asked me where I got my scars and they really aren't that bad. What do you tell your grandfather? "Oh Mr. Razor Blade and I got in a fight".
No.
Cutting's bad. Don't do start it, don't do it, don't think about doing it, just find some other way to deal with all those colliding emotions. You can deal with it, no matter how hard it seems.
It's doable.
Nothing's impossible.
Because once you start... it's hard to stop. It's hard to look at scars and not want to make more. It's hard to be angry, or sad, or depressed without thinking of the razors scattered about in hiding places in your room.

Yes... where was I? What was I trying to say? I don't remember... at all... the library though... it just made me so fucking pissed that I couldn't say "Could you turn the heat down?" knowing that they'd ask me to take my hoodie off.. which is, of course, the logical thing to do when you're so hot you feel ill.

Amy's pondering of the day is why do we have eyebrows? What, exactly, is the point of eyebrows? Does anyone know? They seem to just be... there. Which isn't that cool. I mean, they need some purpose, otherwise why have them?

I'm getting scared to get my hair cut. I really want to give it a boy-cut scruffy look and sometimes gel it and shit... but I'm so nervous that it's going to come out and I'm just going to hate it, it's going to make my face look fat, and that its just going to suck major ass (apologies to my friends that enjoy sucking ass & ass hole).

Last night I had so much energy... I was literally bouncing around my rooms (naked). There's an image for you. Then, after bouncing around, taking a self portrait in the mirror (I was clothed for that one), reading my camera instructions in English and French, I looked in the mirror (naked). Now, if I could gain like two or three inches, and keep the same fat porportion that I have now, I think I'd look damn sexy. I love curves on women. Curves are gorgeous. Curves are art. How many paintings do you see of scrawny Kate Moss types? Not many. Why is that? Because it's not intresting. I'd much rather photgraph someone (nude) who is a size 10-16 then someone who is under a 6. Anyone want to volunteer? I want to do a nude sometime... female nude thank you very much... your face doesn't even have to show we could hide it in the shadows...
Unfortunetly, that'd be one of those pictures that I'd have a hard time explaining to parents and the like. Kind of like that picture I took of Laura cutting.
People just aren't ready to see the truth...
The truth is, we aren't perfect, we're all beautiful just the way we are and we've all got our problems. People, including myself, just aren't ready for that knowledge. We love to hate ourselves. We love to look into the mirror and point out all the bad things rather then point out how beautiful our smile is. We love to point out that zit, that mole, that streachmark, that roll of fat. We love to point it out and go A-HAH! Imprefection! This must mean that I'm a horrible, worthless human being that isn't fit for society.
We love to do this with others too. Notice someone and say to ourselves God, I'd kill myself before I got that fat. Or God damn that guy has such a pizza face, hasn't he ever heard of Stridex?.
Don't deny it. I know you do it. I do/did at one time or another as well.
What if that woman has an eating disorder? What if that guy's entire self esstem issues revolve around the fact that he has horrible acne? What if he's depressed because he knows that's what you're thinking.
Makes you feel like scum, doesn't it?

Look in the mirror. Accept your imperfections, most aren't changing any time soon. Love the things that make you you... your smile, your facial expressions, your personality.
No matter how beautiful you are now, you will never be rememberd for your beauty unless you die at a young age. For beauty lasts only so long, as does the mind.
What's left is your personality.
Your smile, your laugh. What's left is the happy memories you made when you weren't thinking about how fat you are, or how ugly you are. What's left is the impact that you made, the smiles you left behind, and the hugs you gave.
When you think about it, that's all that really matters anyway.

[Must attend to AP English homework now, love you all, good night]
/A

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