Have you ever looked in the mirror and felt like a monster took over your life? You drift off into times where you felt smart, beautiful, and assured… and suddenly, you look at yourself in the mirror and you’re confronted with feelings of worthlessness. Well, those feelings seize my mind and flesh every now and again. I’ll be in front of the mirror and notice all the flaws. I’ll think of all the tests I’ve failed, all the projects that disappointed me, and all the negative things people said about me. For that moment in time, it’s all true. For some, I suppose, these reoccurring feelings of worthlessness result in depression and misery. For most of us, however, we drink some tea, listen to some Adele songs, and get over it the next day.
You wake up in the superficiality and routine that you’re used to, and you legitimately feel better. That’s all until, one day for whatever reason that feeling creeps back. I referred to that feeling as ‘the pits’. I recently started referring to that feeling as ‘the middle’. I found that after I was done in the middle, I was a bit stronger and was harder to raddle. I was more difficult to raddle like a Japanese built building, but I was still capable of raddling and I still am. It’s just that much more difficult.
I use to think that that I was the only person who has ever felt this way, but I found out that was hardly the truth. All of my friends have felt less than and have wondered what exactly makes them worth being counted in this judgmental thing we call life. Males, females, heterosexual, homosexual, and everything in between; they’ve all admitted to days that all of their God-given gifts felt like coal and all their beauty looked like gray ashes.
I guess it shouldn’t be too much of surprise when we think about how obsessed with perfection and beauty we are. I find it hard to believe that our ancient ancestors had these same spells that plague humanity now. Sure, I could blame media and how they exploit a certain beauty and leave us all to try our best to live up to that standard. But I think it’s deeper than that.
We feel this pressure to neglect everything that is us to be a magazine’s version of ‘us’. So, maybe it is just as deep as the media. Which means the answer to no more ‘middle’ days is just as deep as me and you.
I, personally, think this beauty and revolution should start with artists. Besides, Beyoncé is our Mona Lisa and our covergirls and hunks are Picasso’s mangled faces. Artists have the amazing capability to make anything and anyone beautiful and perfect, but the concrete fact of it all is that it’s not really an artists’ magic that is making anything and everything beautiful and perfect. Everything is beautiful and perfect because it is, the artist is reiterating a fact that a culture chooses to ignore. I refuse to think The Beatles’ “Girl” was a portrait of some blonde bombshell with a well-endowed bust size. I do, however, think it is a tune dedicated to feminine perfection and beauty.
A type of perfection and beauty that we all possess, but have yet to unlock in a way where we never have to worry about being in that self-esteem purgatory or ‘the middle’, again. What’s the answer to unlocking limitless self-love, despite your mind and media telling you that it’s not yet deserved? I have no earthly clue, but I do think it has plenty to do with destroying more Photoshopped pictures and hanging up more Picassos.
I’m an artist (by the way of writing and creative direction in music and fashion) born in New York City, currently living in Atlanta, Ga that enjoys being observed and exploited, so I’m hardly a rarity.
Egoism to the Point of Psychosis, Hubris to the Point of Fanaticism, Self-love to the Point of Masturbation
Have you ever looked in the mirror and felt like a monster took over your life? You drift off into times where you felt smart, beautiful, and assured… and suddenly, you look at yourself in the mirror and you’re confronted with feelings of worthlessness. Well, those feelings seize my mind and flesh every now and again. I’ll be in front of the mirror and notice all the flaws. I’ll think of all the tests I’ve failed, all the projects that disappointed me, and all the negative things people said about me. For that moment in time, it’s all true. For some, I suppose, these reoccurring feelings of worthlessness result in depression and misery. For most of us, however, we drink some tea, listen to some Adele songs, and get over it the next day.
You wake up in the superficiality and routine that you’re used to, and you legitimately feel better. That’s all until, one day for whatever reason that feeling creeps back. I referred to that feeling as ‘the pits’. I recently started referring to that feeling as ‘the middle’. I found that after I was done in the middle, I was a bit stronger and was harder to raddle. I was more difficult to raddle like a Japanese built building, but I was still capable of raddling and I still am. It’s just that much more difficult.
I use to think that that I was the only person who has ever felt this way, but I found out that was hardly the truth. All of my friends have felt less than and have wondered what exactly makes them worth being counted in this judgmental thing we call life. Males, females, heterosexual, homosexual, and everything in between; they’ve all admitted to days that all of their God-given gifts felt like coal and all their beauty looked like gray ashes.
I guess it shouldn’t be too much of surprise when we think about how obsessed with perfection and beauty we are. I find it hard to believe that our ancient ancestors had these same spells that plague humanity now. Sure, I could blame media and how they exploit a certain beauty and leave us all to try our best to live up to that standard. But I think it’s deeper than that.
We feel this pressure to neglect everything that is us to be a magazine’s version of ‘us’. So, maybe it is just as deep as the media. Which means the answer to no more ‘middle’ days is just as deep as me and you.
I, personally, think this beauty and revolution should start with artists. Besides, Beyoncé is our Mona Lisa and our covergirls and hunks are Picasso’s mangled faces. Artists have the amazing capability to make anything and anyone beautiful and perfect, but the concrete fact of it all is that it’s not really an artists’ magic that is making anything and everything beautiful and perfect. Everything is beautiful and perfect because it is, the artist is reiterating a fact that a culture chooses to ignore. I refuse to think The Beatles’ “Girl” was a portrait of some blonde bombshell with a well-endowed bust size. I do, however, think it is a tune dedicated to feminine perfection and beauty.
A type of perfection and beauty that we all possess, but have yet to unlock in a way where we never have to worry about being in that self-esteem purgatory or ‘the middle’, again. What’s the answer to unlocking limitless self-love, despite your mind and media telling you that it’s not yet deserved? I have no earthly clue, but I do think it has plenty to do with destroying more Photoshopped pictures and hanging up more Picassos.
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Myles Johnson
I’m an artist (by the way of writing and creative direction in music and fashion) born in New York City, currently living in Atlanta, Ga that enjoys being observed and exploited, so I’m hardly a rarity.