No one is a special special snowflake. No matter what you may believe, what your parents taught you, your teachers, your mentors, or whoever wanted to get into your pants.
You are not a special special snowflake. I say this as much to anyone else as to myself.
For a time, I have been left with a dilemma.
I love body modifications. I have multiple piercings and tattoos, with plans for more. However, my vision for my body was knocked end-over-end when I learned someone who I rather disliked (and thankfully is no longer in my life) has a similar body mod to one which I wanted to acquire.
All of a sudden the idea germinating in my mind was tainted. Before I was expressing who I was, who I am. It was to be a reminder to myself of both my inner beauty and outer radiance. When I learned of their modification, I was left with the thought of my new addition, should I procure it, being associated with this person.
I am not a special special snowflake.
There is but so much real estate on any body to augment, and there are so very many people in this world. No matter what, somewhere there is someone who has the exact some modifications as mine, and I, should I ever meet them, may indeed hate them. So what?
When I mentioned my problem to a coworker, he commented that my dilemma was the reason why he never got any body mods. Every time he had an idea for one, he'd see it or something similar on someone else. He wanted to be unique.
But I don't have body modifications because I believe I'm a special special snowflake. My tattoos and piercings are expressions of myself. They are meaningful, beauteous, and, at times, just ornamentation. But they are mine.
The more I think on this, the more foolish I feel. It is my body, my want, my meaning. It matters not how anyone else chooses to augment themselves, nor should their reasoning have any effect on my sentiment to my changes.
To think, I've wasted time and energy fretting over this...
My beauty is from within; I choose how I wish to display this on my skin. Similarities to others be damned.
Haiku Review of 2024: 20th Anniversary of Reducing the Fuckery to a Size We
Can Handle
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That's right. Back in 2004, I did my own review of the year through the
delicate poem with the incisive power of a stiletto made of metaphor. Then
rude r...
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