Step Into My Shoes..

I used to doodle in school. A lot. Even when I was in my college, I used to draw pretty flowers on the corners of my handouts. I didn't know what I meant to accomplish but they used to give me satisfaction and even happiness. In school I used to be praised for my ability to fill in charts of paper after charts of paper with drawings and colors and pretty words to decorate the classroom. As far as I remember I used to carry the weight of all the class decoration competitions in all those years. I have even won some "art" competitions in my life. And I used to harbor a dream of becoming an "artist", which later turned into a desire to at least learn oil painting at some point in my life. These days I hardly lift a pen to draw anything. I hate even writing. On paper. Why did I stop? I guess I got "put to my place" when I saw other real artists and their amazing arts. When I was growing up, there was no real competition. I used to enjoy draw...

Yesterday I had an epiphany. It involves my looks. It involves your looks. It involves how we all look like. First, background story. My mom once told me that I look good in my pictures. She let it hang there. She didn't have to mention "...as opposed to in real life" after the statement for me to know what it meant. To look at the positive side, it means I am photogenic. And to look at the negative side, it means that my pictures are clearly deceiving and if you've seen only my pictures you'll be left disappointed when you meet me irl. To look at the darker side, my mom, who's supposed to love me for what I am, still feels I'm uglier outside of my pictures, to put it blandly. O-kay. It is no news that almost everyone who's got even an ounce of vanity in them wants to take great pictures of themselves. And why not. I've only heard of one exception where this girl from YouTube talked about how she puts not-so-good pictures in her Tinde...