Orc
diagnosed autist
Staff
- Joined
- Jul 18, 2022
- Posts
- 28,023
- Reputation
- 82,578
people think being attractive means the world unfolds for you like a red carpet, that strangers will double take on the street, that café workers will smile longer, that doors will open, metaphorical and literal, but it doesn't happen.
attractive men, don't walk into a room and cause gasps, they're not movie stars, they're just another face in the crowd, and unless they're actively performing charisma, which is often confused with worth, no one cares, you could look like a sculpture, but if you carry yourself like a haunted abused stray dog with unprocessed trauma leaking from every microexpression, it doesn't matter, people feel that before they ever register your jawline.
attraction isn't a magic pass, it's a filter, one that maybe gets you tolerated a bit longer before people realize you're just as exhausting to be around as anyone else, no one's immune to being dismissed, handsome or not, you're still competing with the noise of everyone else's lives, attention spans burnt out and eyes glued to a glowing rectangle, you could stand there shirtless in perfect lighting and still be ignored because someone's phone just buzzed.
if you are goodlooking, and people don't respond the way the script says they should, it hits harder, you start wondering if you're defective, if you're not just invisible, but inherently forgettable, because beauty isn't admired unless it's softened by charm, by ease, by timing, by all the things that can't be contoured or squatted into existence.
take care of yourself, be fit, be presentable, but don’t think for a second that it will rewrite the laws of how attention works, you're not special, no one is, and if you are, the room won’t let you know, you’ll still walk home wondering if you imagined your own reflection, and whether being beautiful is just another kind of isolation with better lighting.
being goodlooking doesn't save you, it doesn't ascend you, you won't suddenly become someone else just because your face improved or your jawline started casting shadows, you're still the same ugly, anxious, emotionally water damaged dog underneath, flinching at kindness, misreading tone, waiting for rejection like it's part of the routine
you can dress the trauma up in a nice coat and perfect skin, but it'll still bark at the wrong time, still bite the hand trying to feed it, and people sense that, no amount of beauty can override the feeling that something in you is cracked and leaking out through every word, every glance, every forced smile, you’re not transcending anything, you're just performing a better version of broken.
attractive men, don't walk into a room and cause gasps, they're not movie stars, they're just another face in the crowd, and unless they're actively performing charisma, which is often confused with worth, no one cares, you could look like a sculpture, but if you carry yourself like a haunted abused stray dog with unprocessed trauma leaking from every microexpression, it doesn't matter, people feel that before they ever register your jawline.
attraction isn't a magic pass, it's a filter, one that maybe gets you tolerated a bit longer before people realize you're just as exhausting to be around as anyone else, no one's immune to being dismissed, handsome or not, you're still competing with the noise of everyone else's lives, attention spans burnt out and eyes glued to a glowing rectangle, you could stand there shirtless in perfect lighting and still be ignored because someone's phone just buzzed.
if you are goodlooking, and people don't respond the way the script says they should, it hits harder, you start wondering if you're defective, if you're not just invisible, but inherently forgettable, because beauty isn't admired unless it's softened by charm, by ease, by timing, by all the things that can't be contoured or squatted into existence.
take care of yourself, be fit, be presentable, but don’t think for a second that it will rewrite the laws of how attention works, you're not special, no one is, and if you are, the room won’t let you know, you’ll still walk home wondering if you imagined your own reflection, and whether being beautiful is just another kind of isolation with better lighting.
being goodlooking doesn't save you, it doesn't ascend you, you won't suddenly become someone else just because your face improved or your jawline started casting shadows, you're still the same ugly, anxious, emotionally water damaged dog underneath, flinching at kindness, misreading tone, waiting for rejection like it's part of the routine
you can dress the trauma up in a nice coat and perfect skin, but it'll still bark at the wrong time, still bite the hand trying to feed it, and people sense that, no amount of beauty can override the feeling that something in you is cracked and leaking out through every word, every glance, every forced smile, you’re not transcending anything, you're just performing a better version of broken.
