Features

Do you ever look at your face and realise that it’s not the same, not in the sense that you’re aging.. but your features change. 

Every. Single. Time. 

I used to think I was weird because honestly I’d forget what I look like. I can’t seem to figure out which one is real.

They say that your mood affects the way you see things, that your mind has the ability to play with your perception.

You look in the mirror, then another moment you pass by a reflecting surface throughout the day and you realise, “Hey! I didn’t leave the house like that…Or did I?” Or looking through some old photos..  “I’d like to go back to that time when I THOUGHT I was fat!” Or remembering that the specific date the picture was taken, and you were camera shy because earlier you had looked in the mirror and you hated what you saw. You didn’t understand how people were putting up with that, you didn’t want to remember that feeling of the mirror over and over in a photograph, captured forever.  

But hey…you actually look decent.

So is it the photos that are lying or is it your mind?

Are the photos covering up, portraying an image of you where all the darkness is covered with a clean cut and a clean shirt?  And a smurk because with what you’ve done… you really shouldn’t be smiling?

Or is it that those voices in your head are liars, and they dim out the sparkle in your eyes and tell you that your no good, even though what you did is forgive-able, and has been forgiven by all, except you? So you can’t smile.

Which is reality, is it the reality of the feelings, that bring you up and down with the slightest blow? Or is it that person that comes out when you look back at pictures and wonder why you hated yourself so much?

If the mind can play with the perception of our features SO much, and be so deceitful, what else is it changing the reality of? What things have you let your mind mould  into that aren’t real?

That you’re not good enough?

That you will always be a failure?

That you don’t measure up?

That God is out to get you? 

That this is ALL you are capable of being- A screw up?

That if only they knew what you did, no one would accept you?

That you don’t deserve to be loved?

That you don’t matter?

What? What else have you let your mind take over and change the reality through those broken glasses you wear? The glasses that make you see everything tinted, in shades of despair and heaviness.

 

 

 

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