Sad-lookingA Story by InkSomewhat autobiographical, somewhat metaphorical
I look at myself in the mirror, twisting my hair in different ways around my frowning face. I could be a model, you know, if my features weren’t this unlovely and sad-looking. Why do I always look so sad? Is it because of my droppy eyes and thin lips, or because of my depressed mind? Is my melancholic complexion due to a physical atribute I am unable to control? Or is it because of something much deeper inside me, a sadness so strong within me that my own being radiates with that pain?
Still staring at the mirror, I smile at myself, hoping that my reflection will look alive at the least. It was a good try, not bad at all, but even though my grin could as well be the one of the happiest fool in this earth, my eyes give me away. Those dead marbles that stare back at me betray me yet again; they are a perfect mirror of the emptyness that has poisoned me since I was around twelve. I keep gazing at them, searching and looking for even the tiniest spark there could be, but I only find the ocean of sorrow that is all too familiar to me now. If I wanted to, I could cry right now. It is a strange talent of mine, the hability to cry at will. Maybe I should cry, I don’t know really, sometimes it helps me clear this mess I call my mind. No, it takes too much energy and I have no time right now. Some people don’t know this, but a good cry tends to drain you up completely, leaving you unable to do anything else but sleep afterwards. Maybe that’s why I’m always so tired. Maybe the real reason of why I always look so sad is because of this unusual hobby of mine. I look at the reflection in front of me one last time. After a moment an angry sigh escapes my lips, but really, what did I expect? My eyes give it all away, those gloomy backstabbers. © 2018 InkAuthor's Note
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2 Reviews Added on March 21, 2018 Last Updated on March 21, 2018 Tags: first person, sad, depression, self image |