drunkencynic's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- beauty I've been thinking. Why am I so obsessed with my own beauty? It isn't like having a small waist and big eyes and big lips makes someone a better person. It isn't like the compliments I get compliment the whole me. It's just the outside. It's just an opinion. It isn't like the more compliments I amass the better person I automatically am. It isn't like being beautiful means that people love me or people want to be around me. It never has. I've never been the 'nice girl'. I've never been the one people automatically flock to because they feel comfortable around. I'm always the one that people step lightly around. I admit it. I'm intimidating. Not in the looks sense, though I've been told that, but in the sense that I have a sharp temper and I'm very opinionated and not at all interested in making nice. Not very interested in people in general in fact. Yet...I am. Being beautiful or pretty or attractive does not mean that you are guaranteed entry into social circles, or befriended easily, or asked out all the time. As this bit of normalcy is elusive to me, I of course start wanting it, or at least start wondering if I should want it. But friends are not attracted to looks. You get stared at, you get shy compliments, you get older guys wanting you, younger guys getting crushes on you, you get old ladies pinching your cheek and remembering their ingenue days, you get modeling offers and people telling you fame will come more easily... but none of it means anything. The thrill is great but it wears off. You forget about it. And then you start questioning yourself again. If you don't get complimented by a couple new strangers every day you start wondering if you lost it. If your beauty has dimmed overnight. It's so sad to be so dependent on something so superficial and fleeting. I like to think that I am an intelligent girl. Perhaps I might not always show it, but deep down, I think I am. Where it matters. Yet I cannot seem to rid myself of this fixation. It's like a disease. 4:28 p.m. - 2003-05-13 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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