I Hate My Nose & I Hate the Sound of My Voice

My nose is getting bigger; I fucking know it. I can feel it getting bigger. I tell countless lies, so it’s only fitting.

I hate the sound of my voice. Every time I watch myself or listen to my voice, I cringe. Do I sound like that? It’s just so naggy and squeaky.

I wish I had a more pronounced, dominant voice. It would fit so well with my visual aesthetic.

I wonder if other people hyperfocus on themselves as much as I do. I hate to say it, but it would make me feel better and more like I had people to relate to.

The worst thing is that after all the rediscover of my hatred for myself, I begin inspecting myself even more.

Did you know that I only realized after months ago that I am not seeing what others see when they look at me? WHAT THE FUCK?

All this time, I never knew that my face was so unsymmetrical. The mirror has been fucking with my mind. As a result, I have started taking pictures of myself using the back camera of my iPhone. It was then that I became depressed.

All the years of me looking like something I had not signed off on. A total travesty of all intents and purposes. I have since realized that I have a wonky, droopy eyelid. I spend minutes of every day thinking about the benefits of botox. Can I? Should I? Will I?

It’s the logical thing to do.

This blog is a call to beauty, my beauty, to be specific. I was born with this nose, and I still can’t help but be self-conscious about its prominence. It fucking sucks because I’ve gone through so much in life with my body image issues and just my general distaste for the community I live in. And I still can’t catch a break. I have to deal with my face now too.

Let it be known that by no means do I think I’m fucking ugly– that’s for you to decide. I know that I’m a major fucking catch, from my career to my sense of style. So my nose looks like toucan sam, and I have a naggy voice, whatever. I work with what I have.

My style, my vision, my personality, I’m different from what I see around me.

I have nothing against people who turn to medical technologies, innovations and procedures to enhance their features. I’m here, just saying that I’m fucking jealous and I hate you.

My nose may look the way it does because of a deviated septum. According to many of my friends and family, I may be able to get a doctor-recommended nose job. But what if I do that? Does it make me a hypocrite? A cop-out?

A part of me feels like I am.

God, I hate when I turn my face to the site– eek, the profile view is just not my friend, nor enemy. An acquaintance, yes.

See what happens when I see a video of myself?

I‘m not going to get any sleep tonight unless I binge-watch Big Mouth until I pass out. Even then. I’m likely going to massage my nostrils to death.




An inquisitive take on life in the 21st century, with a spritz of art and splash of fashion.

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He Who Nose

He Who Nose

An inquisitive take on life in the 21st century, with a spritz of art and splash of fashion.

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