What is beauty? The face on the latest cover of Vogue? (Note the face was crossed out to prevent controversy) or Vibe magazine. Well. I see these people too, you see. And I wonder...what makes them anymore beautiful than me? How could they be any more special than any of us out here? They are make-up infested, and stuffed with rules and diets, and no sleep. Thrown a book of guidelines about how old someone else feels they should be. Fake smiles and told to kiss faces and sign autographs for people who believe. And they wonder how someone else can't see, and why they themselves don't believe. And this is beauty?
Worms in a can is what they are because none of them are really special, or unique. They all do the exact same things. Praised because they think they can sing, or someone else wrote their rap, or someone else taught them how to dance. There are a handful of true artists out there with real talent. Is it worth the sacrifice? The losing of ones self. Is it worth not having your own mind? Is it worth that lie? That smiling in everyone elses face so that they can think you truly believe that you are as beautiful as they believe. You glance into the mirror, but you can see. You can see what they don't because you feel what they can't. They think they know but they have no i-de-a. You are unhappy yet they smile at you. What can be more disturbing then to see someone smiling when you're feeling like squash? To see someone happy and knowing that they're happy because they think you are. And whats worse is that you couldn't tell them even if you wanted to, because you can't bear yourself to crush their belief, or in fact, you don't believe it is any of their business anyways. And you're right.
You're in a world that wishes to be in yours. How could you trust someone who wants you for who you are, when they don't even know who you are...? How do you communicate with someone you know only knows you because you're on a t.v. screen, or because of who you know? They don't know you! They've never been in your space anymore than where you have allowed them to be. They are your fans...untrustworthy...and could never understand.
They hate that you say it, but thats how it is. They say that they're different, but that is cliche' line and you can't trust that their statements are from their heart. But in some way...you don't realize that you make them feel special. Because of you they have grown confidence because even if they could never be with you, or in your space, like they'd all like. In a weird, but understandable way, they feel as if, maybe, someday, they just might. You help them get through their rough times because what is more sobering than a daydream that you trust will come true? But you Mr./Ms. popular person will never see how much you really mean to them. Because they don't understand you...because they don't know you. Because you think you know yourself. But...how could you?
You've been told to lie, told to smile, told to talk, told to walk, made to stand, made to sit, told when to drink, told when to eat, told what to eat, shown how to stand, told what to say, who to say it to, and even the person that you should never say anything to. How could you ever KNOW yourself? When everything you think you are has been created by someone else. You say you are your own mind, and I say that if you are...then you are not in too deep. You are no celebrity, because what modern day celebrity knows who they are, unless they are in fact, not too much of anyone to anybody? But then, is that such a bad thing? To be nobody to anybody but to the people who matter?
Is it bad to not be made beautiful by a magazine? By airbrushes and people speaking for you. Strings attached to your body. Strings attached to your heart. Is it bad to be who YOU are?
Is not who YOU are...a very beautiful person, too.
Sincerely,
Tina
No comments:
Post a Comment