About Squinting at the Looking Glass

Post 1110:

            Do you anyone who is crazy good looking? I’m not talking about getting hit on once in awhile at the bar. I’m not talking about being able to get a swipe and a make-out sesh every week or two. I’m talking about someone who is ridiculously and mercilessly handsome or pretty, so much that it’s downright overwhelming.

            Yeah, I’ve known a few. Not many, but a few.

            That’s no picnic, I can tell just by watching. The upkeep has to be burdensome. I mean, you’re the hot one. You can’t just not be hot. Then you’re not the thing you are, and you have to be the thing you are. That’s what people expect and the people don’t like to change their minds. Ever show up to a family deal with an extra fifteen pounds? People don’t want that, even if they’re polite. They think you’re the worst.

            Seriously, the self-evaluation must be constant. Trying to be a really good person all the time must be even harder. You need a whole different non-superficial mirror for that job. Guilt, absolution, resolve, dedication, willingness to do better. What a beating.

            And yet, what choice do we have but to look in the mirror? It can be an actual mirror, a life mirror, or the worst, the creative mirror.

            Yes, this is my least favorite part about writing and creating. Looking at your own work can be miserable for several reasons. First, every word or sentence or character is a potential flaw in your proverbial skin. And that’s page after page, chapter after chapter. It’s like doing the mirror thing with your whole body, except it’s a frigging electron microscope.

            Still it has to be done if you’re going to look good. (Entertain an audience)

            I would love to throw the mirror off a cliff, frankly. Maybe you can soften the blow by finding someone else who will go over and evaluate your work. A more delicate mirror, so to speak. Anything’s worth a try, though the same hard look at yourself is in the offing.

            No matter what.

            There is no escape.

            I’ve gone probably a week or maybe even two without looking at myself. Not a pretty picture. Same goes with my writing. Frigging laws of the universe. I don’t make them up.

            Stop squinting. It only makes things worse in the end. Eyes Open. It’s not just a Snow Patrol song. Cheers and see you after.