After the rainy days, a sunny day came up. Then shit happened. I got an allergic rash on my face. “What do I do now?” Otherwise, I must put the powder and cover that rash when I leave the house. It does not matter to me personally; I accept myself with it. Just as I know it does not define me in any one view. I put it exclusively for other people. Not to answer questions and not to let me … “Wait, wait,” follows the inner monologue. “You do not want to put the powder on the face and you look forward to leaving the house, but you will harass and yourself and your husband while you put the powder because of other people.” This voice in my head can sometimes be wise, and I realize it’s right about this situation. I step outside without foundation, rash kilometric-scale on-site. Without any discomfort associated with physical appearance. It only bothers me because in moments the rash is really tremendously painful. I go into a local store and face the salesman with a perplexing look. I’m okay with the looks, I’m even understandable and I do not have a reaction. Which, obviously encouraged, had grown into apparent mischief. There I reacted, however, with a dead-cold statement that scolding my rupture will not solve my problems. After which I stand firmly. But the theme is not mockery. The theme is something completely different.
A few days later, the rash was gone and I looked completely different. Nothing in elementary basic structure of my being has changed. I’m not saying that we should not take into account the outside of everything, even looks. But I am saying that I do sometimes have bad hair days, old sweatpants days and no time to deal with so much these external looks. Earlier, I would not go out with such a rash. Now I go out, whit or without a rash, whit or without make up and I do not have any bad feelings about that. I recently caught a friend in constant avoiding of going anywhere or even five feet to the store, unless she was dressed up from head to toe. “There’s no way I’ll go here, I’m not ready. There’s no way I’ll go to the concert I worship because it’s the day I work in the afternoon and I do not have time to get dressed up and do my make-up. I have time to come, but I do not have time to get ready. ” In all this I see the failure of life that takes place before our eyes while we are waiting when we will be good enough to make it live. Not knowing how good we are with the fact we have it. I would like to be smart enough to break irrelevant forms to the benefit of the essentials.
After a “physical” day, I also had a “psychic” day. I do not remember when my last drop of energy happened like this, but it arrived the day in which I was ready, about four o’clock, to go to bed and wishing it was night already. Tired, simple fatigue. To which my mind went to build a story inside my own head. “How are you sleepy already? You cannot do that; you have things to do. You’re not a good person, just waiting for when you sleep … blah, blah, blah. “The quarrel with my mind passed a few hours in which I was dragged around the house like a dead hen. Fighting between normal human tiredness and that of the mind-set morgue – which I must now be, and I am not. Then a miracle happened and everything I had planned that afternoon got canceled. It was a little to say I was happy beyond any measure. “Now I can go to sleep, here, as soon as the clock shows 19:30, to feel at least somewhat normal.” Then I turned around and watched the condition of my home, I got a cold sweat. Someone would think that some kind of world war has just happened. I go to the table, intending to arrange everything. The only thing I did physically, I did not even know how, was to put the dishes in the sink. I did not wash them, I just put them in the sink, and tried to clean the table, with no luck. Then I got in bed, thanks to all the possible and impossible saints that everything got canceled and that my husband came home. After thanking, instead of rest, my mind when on a roll: “Have you seen that mess? How can you lie? “,” Shut up, do you see that I cannot even get up?! ” Then I made a fatal mistake. If you ever think that social networking is a good way to calm your mind, you get this idea out of your mind right now. “Look, everyone’s house is clean. All are wearing makeup and have perfect filters. They drink cocktails on the beach, they do not have a rash. They do not have a day when they are tired of fatigue and lie like a hen. They are all good. Do you see that, you lazy bum? “Luckily, I was quick to awaken. “Hahahahaha, go to your own profile. What would someone say now if thez would look at your profile? The same thing! You and your life are perfect!”
What is the point? The point is that we all have days of bad, messy hair, rashes, bad wills. We all go through the life filters, which must be recognized is only interesting just because of these filters. Therefore, give your mind a big slap and slap his even more if you are caught in pajamas day and go on social networks. Wear yourself with love and understanding during the tip of the top days and during the bad and messy days. Do not miss sunsets anyway because some of you believe that you are not ready or good enough to go out. Do not steal your own days, they are the only thing you will never return to. Do not complain about them one day because you believe life on social networks is real. Or how do you need to be perfect to enjoy it. We are all perfectly imperfect. All. That’s where our magic lies.
On that note have you read “My (Not So) Perfect Life” by Sophie Kinsella? If not have a read, you will understand where I am coming from in this blog post. Have a good one!