Sunday, April 18, 2010

My Face

My Face
I see the shadows and the dark circles; the craters and the oozing sores. And as I slowly turn, here and there, I see spots of light, flecks, actually.
I have six and a half billion cells living on my face. Twenty-four thousand of my not-yet-matured cells die… every single day. Half, or over three billion subsist. No wonder I am not a pretty sight. And nearly all of my six and a half billion cells have a beef against other cells. What a mess…
How many can actually think? Or do think? Or live positively? Not many, but those are the flecks of light I see from far away.
I come closer, much closer. The closer I get, the uglier my face is. I am in despair, wanting to be beautiful and inviting, but no matter how much make-up I slather on, no matter how much rouge I cover my face with, no matter how many “surgeons” I employ, the ugliness of myself shines through.
What can I do? Scrape the ugliness off my face, leaving only the flecks of light? How beautiful would I be! But I have neither the power nor the stomach for it. Anyway, I have this very stupid belief that there has to be some fleck of light in every one of those cells. How do I activate that light? How do I make every one of them shine? I would love to cast a spell; a spell so powerful it deletes memory and inserts positivity. A spell so profound, it turns the nature of my cells away from greed, destruction and hate. Away from the hunger for power and away from being de-sensitized; away from fear of differences and towards curiosity.
Ahh, but I am a dreamer… I have no spell. The only spell that could (and probably will) work, is a deep-cell peel, using the most horrendous chemicals; chemicals used by ugly and negative cells to cause more boils, more oozing sores until my face can stand it no longer and I will be defaced.
And then, from far away, very high up above, I will see the new skin: yet unblemished, clear with promise and I will hope that my new cells will carry the DNA of memory of what brought them to light. And maybe, a big maybe, they will know how to shine.


Reblog this post [with Zemanta]