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The woman of battle scars.
I've noticed in my newly found lifestyle that there is no purpose in the pathos-tactic. This tactic may hit your targets but will not make them engage in reformation. The ideal value of inspiring comes from sparking creativity but not by overpowering it.
Today I saw a girl walking outside of my fathers doctors office. This woman's face was massively scarred - looking like Susanna Kaysen's Polly. One of her eyes was forced shut and her hands looked old and awkwardly positioned as she walked obliviously to her beat up red oldsmobile. She was alone. While realizing that this woman had every bit of potential to get around on her own, I was saddened to see that she was. I am not here to downplay this womans strength, I am here in regards to the weakness of those observering. Myself, included.
I imagined that no one had fallen in love with this woman of battle scars. I couldn't help but think of why. What is so wrong with a woman of a facial mask made of thick, pink, bare make up. Even if this woman in our society is deserving of the mask she wears, even if she is rude and narcassitic and cold. Even if she was like this before her face was scarred, I believe that there is something more. Everyone can be reached at the core. At the core of everyone there is a deep reflection of their past, there are childish secrets, and there chaotic emotions. In this woman, I can expect rage and fear and embarassment placed in her core. I can expect thick overpowering stacks of goals and dreams. Maybe at one time this woman wanted to be an actress, a model. A singer. A doctor even, a counselor. But how much do you trust a doctor with grained hands and no face.
I've decided that this idea I came up with is one of the best I've had and I deeply regret my own weaknesses of stand by. I should have gone up to the woman with no face and kissed her. Right on the scar tissue, kissed her deep into the weapon that caused this mask. I should have fallen in love with this woman for fear that she will never know what it is like to be drowned in the love of another being. I will never know the mind of this woman, all I know is that I praise her for everything that she is. But you, the woman of scar tissue, if you ever read this I just want you know.
That I too, am a woman of battle scars.
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