But in reality, I write like this.
I think this is something that I should explore. I can hear you screaming at your screen now. Actually no, none of you care enough for that, I can hear the clicks of you leaving.
So now all the people who have accidentally left or the people who came hear to laugh at me have gone, shall we?
I look different in my head.
I'm not confessing bodydismorphia or trying to explain that I was born in the wrong body, what I'm saying is that we all look different in our own heads. I look better in my own head, in my head I have Rosie Huntington-Whiteley in my head. Not because I want to look like that, or that I think I should look like that, in fact I'm pretty sure that it has something to do with the 2 years worth of Vogues and Elles to my left and the previous 3 years worth of both in the cupboard on my left. In my head I look like the bodies I have been looking at since I was 17, in my head I am Mila Kunis. You all want to fuck the me thats in my head. The only unhealthy thing about head me is that in my head I am FUNNY. Like I can make people laugh in real life like most humans but I am Stephen Fry, Charlieissocoollike, Spike from Buffy, my Dad funny. I make myself laugh a lot. But I think it becomes less and less funny in the journey from my head to my mouth. I will wait for the opportunity to say a funny thing for weeks. I'll say it to as many people, in as many situations as I possibly can, for all of the laughs.
I'm getting off topic like I got your Mum off last night. SEE FUNNY.
I think the biggest discrepancy between real me and head me is my hips. In reality I know how big my hips are, I know that they are the biggest part of me and that I will probably have to plan ahead with every skirt I ever buy because of them but in my head they are sexy but normal sized. Think Belle from The Hour or The Cadbury's Caramel Bunny. Again, I don't want to look like that or think I should its just this weird amalgamation of all these images and the fact that when I look at myself in the mirror I tend to look at the good bits...
1. Part of my ribs that go from my boobs to my waist.
4. My tummy on the days where I haven't eaten that much salt.
I would rather it be this way round. I would rather have an inflated sense of my appearance, especially in a world where women are trained to judge their self worth by their looks. I judge myself highly, I love me more than almost everyone. But I am lucky, there is something in my brain that took the beautiful and airbrushed and applied those aspects to myself, I didn't have to develop a extreme eating disorder because I have complete delusion. I know people, women, I know women, that think that they are fat. They think they are disgusting and unappealing to the point that if you compliment them THEY DISAGREE. I literally don't understand this weird form of politeness that comes forth in if I say 'Well you look gorgeous today' they give me a list of reasons while I'm wrong and in some instances, activities they are doing so that I may one day be correct.
I'll give you an analogy. YAY.
I tell you I like a sofa. You tell me that I don't like the sofa and then offer to fix all the problems with the sofa that it will one day be pleasing for me. I ALREADY LIKE THE SOFA.
Oh goodness, the caps lock is becoming more regular, run for your lives. Its just swell that we're coming to the end of my point (promise). Yes, yes here we are: I encourage you to greatly over estimate your beauty. I have never met anyone actively offensive in their appearance, in fact I tend to notice and vocalise people's beauty regularly but I meet people all the time who think or at the very least worry that their looks are constantly and without fail insulting the nature of our senses. I'm telling you now, you're all fucking beautiful. I love you all and I wouldn't love you half as much without your brilliant and intense gorgeousness.