I’m kind of prejudiced. (People might think I’m racist and misogynist but that’s not the point right now.) I hate ugly people. I have one hundred percent thrown the demographic of ugly men, women, and nonbinary people under the bus. I’m tired of them, every single one of them.
This, by proxy, means that self-loathing is a core of my identity. White supremacists could use pictures of me to advocate for racial purity because I’m what happens when you mix ever color in the crayon box and in my case, it didn’t end well.
This once was a real point of contention for me. I hated my hair, I hated my skin, I hated my body. I was riddled with absolute disgust as every corner where a mirror and my physical being were involved. But this was all for naught! The story has been changed and I shall be victor!
This morning in my sociology lecture we discussed Erving Goffman’s Theory of Dramaturgy. His theory states that life is mimicking theater and the reason patterend social events happen the way the way they do is because we assume certain roles. I’m tired of being an awkwardly shaped and ostensibly hideous young homosexual of an unidentifiable race with a dent in his forehead. I’m changing the script.
I’ve decided that I am the most beautiful human being in existence. It’s there. I’m assuming the role. Bow down to the power of my physical beauty that is so great it cannot be captured or understood. Stretchmarks from formerly being forty pounds heavier all across my thighs and ass? Where. I don’t know them. I’m a goddess. And while we’re talking about my ass, what about my complete lack of one? I am black and Cuban and should be able to be a foreign dignitary porque de las nalgas de mi gente. I’m taking the role of someone with the best ass on earth. It’s been decided. Just because you can’t see it doesn’t mean it’s not real. You believe in God, don’t you?
I’m enjoying this new logic and this new world I’ve created. It’s warm and fuzzy. The truth is stupid. Jesus was a carpenter. Build a wall. Goodnight.