To all those concerned about my recent disappearance, do not worry, I haven't grown narcissist. It's just that I realized that with my online disappearance, there was something else that had disappeared a long time ago, something I have been trying to erase with premeditation. My face.
It came to me as sudden awakening one usual day on the train, after many dazy nights dedicated to study and busy days committed to my both equally important jobs.
We have abandoned our faces, let them leave us embarrassed, and we've grown apart from them, like estranged family members. We don't look at them, we don't study them, although they are more ours than anything else, aand they are the last images able to remind us who we are. Our plain selves are not something we want to cultivate, as in comparison with beautiful images surrounding us, we want them to fade, to leave us alone, and stop reminding us of our imperfection. Our faces every morning remind us how unfit we are for the modern market. How do they not comply with the internationally accepted definition of 'the desired', so wanted and so to be chased.
