Vainglory

I got beautified yesterday.  I hate sitting in front of the mirror.  I try to avert my eyes, but once in a while I look up and see the horrible vision.  I do not like me in the mirror.  What happened?  I was not careful.

I am losing confidence.  Soon enough, I will not be able to look anyone in the eye.  Maybe that is why I don't mind being alone.

"He's H-I-D-E-O-U-S!"

But the beautician does what she can.  She is good at it.  Maybe it is just her mirror.

I may start a series of self-portraits.  I have the germ of an idea.  I have to work out some of the technical details, but it is do-able, and it seems I am not encouraged to photograph anyone else.  You cannot imagine how much it is killing me.

I'm D-Y-I-N-G.

Literally and figuratively.  I want to leave things behind.

I mean both readings of that line.

I am vainglorious, oversensitive, and undisciplined.

And so it goes.