Sep 30, 2020
My mum got me a sculpture a few days ago. It’s one of those little Christian figures that looks kinda like an angel, but doesn’t have a face. It’s a little girl with a long strawberry blonde braid that curls at the end. She’s wearing a pale dress studded in gold, and lifting up the edges so it fans out around her like a ballgown.
This is the child she raised. The child she wanted.
My loves, I am not that child.
My hair is cropped short and uneven. I mostly wear baggy sweatpants and old sweaters. I curl up on my mattress or around the arms of my roommate’s couch.
I am not that child. I have a face.
#this is my life#i dunno why it bothers me so much#maybe it's an autism thing??#shouldn't be though#I love faces that don't look at me#maybe it's because she feels like a victim of the face-stealer#Or maybe it's because it's The Literal Ideal#It's what she wanted#It's what I can't be#So anyway either I'm gonna make a blue spirit mask for the little girl or regift her#She makes me uncomfortable
