r.claire’s blog

I hate it when people say i look pretty today.
Because i find no beauty in something artificial.
Just a replicate of someone else's original.
I am form without memory.
i look into this mirror at my so called reflection and do nothing but question.

as a kid i spent no time in front of a mirror.
to concerned with hand games, candy and cooties.
When i played with my friends subjects like money, sex and drugs never came up, or was ever heard of.
And the only colours that concerned me where my finger paints,
not the ones on our faces.
Being the fastest was the only point in races.
But like all things living, stuff changes.
i look into this mirror at my so called reflection and do nothing but question.

I was introduced to TV and commercials.
magazines could be considered a food group cause i had them three times a day.
i wanted to spend money i didn't have in order to keep up with the big girl games.
The point was to get some recognition.
suffered from an addiction to attention.
But how could I get that when i tried so hard to look, act and eat like everyone else.
eliminated food in my vocabulary so i could fit into the latest clothes.
Society divided up into sluts, whores and hoes.
I was more than knee deep in it,  
more like drowning and just barely on my last breath.
Everyday was like Halloween, as i painted on a mask to cover up the blank canvas underneath.
Millions of images to choose from but none were really mine.
i look into this mirror at my so called reflection and do nothing but question.

Sometimes i forget who i am when i wake up.
But  then i realize i've never really known.
My perception of me is distorted and i've never really restored it. Where am i from? and does that mean more than the colour of my face?
Does my identity rely on my race?
i can't hide behind questions much longer.
once i realize life is growth, i'll grow much stronger.
i look into this mirror at my so called reflection and do nothing but question.

Its not as simple as some may think
to figure out your forever changing.
Both physically and mentally.
Your youth is deteriorating.
while your mind expands, exceeding your intellectual boundaries.
And so i've come up with a conclusion,
that life is no game and that i deserve to be more than just another name.
I am beautiful, cause beauty is diverse and can not be limited.
my face is my face and i can never get rid of it.
I slowly learned to love the things in me,
the things i've never took the time to see.
self discovery is the key to ones identity.
i found it inside of me,
not my reflection.

you told me that i could write my own story
but stole my pen and burned the paper
now what?
this winter is killing me
my legs succumb to the wind
as i find tiny cuts that bleed where ever they wish
why am i so angry?
why am i so willing?
you get to me
you get to the restricted parts
it's like you have an all access pass to my insides

when
really
you don't give a shit
and I'm the idiot because i do
there's no good reason for it
it just is
and it's pointless to try and change things

instead of studying i decided to finish a painting i started a while back.

midterms are over! i haven't felt this relieved in a very long time. my current short term goals are to finish watching the first season of weeds, finish reading Charlotte Gilman's Herland, and finally clean my room.

Take a photo of something in motion.  
Inspired by Meg.

kick

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