Have you ever looked at someone so closely that you see past the general colour of their eyes to see the amazing patterns embossed on their iris, each fleck of colour visible in the refracting light. Look intently enough and at times it feels like I can see a whole miniature universe in the depths of their iris. The most unique eyes I ever saw belonged to a teacher at my primary school. She had speckled eyes. That is not me being cleverly descriptive, she literally had brown eyes with white dots. I was only young when I saw them and I have never forgotten, nor seen any eyes like them, since. Some people may have found them odd. I, my little eight-year-old self, marvelled at them.
I saw a TV programme this week entitled 'bums, boobs and botox'. The hospital was more of a factory, churning out people who all look the same, ordinary people changing their own (normal, natural) faces and bodies into Barbie/Ken mark II.
Everybody seems to want to look the same, act the same, sound the same and own the same belongings. I deliberately avoid the reality TV artificially produced all-sounds-the-same music that year after year drowns our TV screens and radios. I love it when genuine talent bands who have struggled against the odds of the fame-game burst into stars with something completely different, original and, well, real.
I am proud to say I have never watched any of the 'I'm a forgotten celebrity if I got lost in this jungle no-one would notice' (or like) programmes. I'd prefer to spend my evening writing. I love it. I think it is the notion of using the same vocabulary that everybody else uses, yet feeling a strange pleasure knowing that now is the first time ever that they have been arranged in this order, with this punctuation, creating this meaning. In these few minutes whilst I write this post, they are my words and I can do with them what I will. And so I shall.
With everybody telling you what you should think, feel and be, it takes the braver person to say 'actually... not for me... I dont think, feel or work like that'.
As for me... I love my two birthmarks (I think them pretty not defects). I can't wait for summer to come for the inevitable little freckles that will appear on my nose, across my cheeks and dusting my shoulders. I enjoy the fact that my on-first-impressions boring grey-blue eyes colour change to electric blue the instant I get upset. I like for others to see my expressions (not hiding my face behind big dark sunglasses). I dance about when getting ready for work. I sing in my car (I don't care if someone sees me). I name my plants. I speak my mind (if I censor myself I am not being true to me or you). I ask the awkward questions (I want to know about you too). I have designed my own tattoo (just need a little courage to have it done). I love being the first to walk in snow and look back at my footprints. I love it even more when my niece runs past me and adds her tiny welly prints to mine. I dislike my shadow. That last one is a bit weird, I know... but true. Haha, deal with it.
I find the little 'imperfections' in people endearing... A slightly wonky tooth is cute. Someone who cant control their blushes is adorable. A truthful word spoken is attractive. Someone who is naturally poetic, internally reflective and thoughtful will win my affections quicker than someone rehearsing a contrived practiced speech.
I think in my own little way (I got called kooky recently) (I liked it). I know I am different. I like being so.
I am just me, and it is important that I be so.
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