cuts

I wrote this on Nov 23, 2020. For some reason,  I cut these paragraphs from what I did eventually post. But it's 6 years later and I want to tell my 40 year old self that all of you deserves to be seen. It's ok. Your words are important. I love you.

If you don't want reconstruction, you don't need a plastic surgeon, because obviously you don't care what you look like.

If you can't work, you can't pay your insurance premium, and if you can't offer us money, there's no point to you anyway.

If you have cancer, a nice popular one, you can sign up to be a cog in our medical machine - as we need cogs like you, and we will use you, for research, until you die.

I hate that I let it happen and I hate that there was no one around me to teach me otherwise. I hate that I was alone for so long with feelings I couldn't name, so couldn't recognize, that my path is paved in loneliness, and it will be with me, no matter where I walk.

Even still, I'm never seen. Only this shell is seen, as a tool to function in society and navigate its expectations. I estimate 90% of my resources going into this shell: My presentation. My image, and "the life I live to present to the world." I am very angry about wasting so much of me. My life, my youth, my relationships, focused on this idol worship.