Jaximus's blog: "Mirror Mirror"

There's always more than what you see.  You're so pretty they tell you. We love you they say, Placations. Always and forever fishing for compliments and offering placations. Looking in the mirror I see what they see and I know they are lying. Smile and say thank you. Break out the dimples and reply "so are you!". More placations. More people to see, more civilities to extend. I look around me and see hatred and placations in all their faces. Such a great mom, they tell me.... as my children are once again being disciplined for not doing their chores. What a nice person you are, as I try to get away from them all fishing for compliments.

It's like there is a desperate person inside of me fighting to get out. She is swinging her body around in there, pounding at the walls of my being, screaming to just let her out of here. I medicate instead. The cloud of smoke instantly dropping her to her knees and forcing her to gasp for air. I'm not supposed to let her out yet. It's not her time. She still has to wait, just like I do. The warden of myself. I look into the mirror again and watch as my blue eyes get just a little bit duller. There is no saving me, there is no fixing me, there is only placating me. Which means she too is screwed. 

Money makes the world go around. You have to be a people person to get money. A people person that offers placations and meaningless platitudes. I can do that, I am great at that. Most of the time, I can people with the most talkative, most loud, most obnoxiously in your face people there are. You know why? Because a people person like me? Isn't a people person. 

The mirror looks back at me while I put on my eyeshadow. Three colors. Dark on the outside, light on the inside, mixed shade in the middle. To make me stand out more for the people. Because it pleases them to look at me when I "take a little pride in myself". This people pleasing has been the best defense mechanism of my life. It has helped me live under the radar thus far. Allowed me to exist in a world where only drama resides. But there is a time when that defense mechanism needs to be changed out with an upgraded version and I can feel its starting to short out. I paint my eyelashes with tar even though it will burn tonight while I cry in the shower.

"You deserve to be loved", what even is that? A few years of lust and then complacency. A loose term everyone throws around when someone makes them laugh. A placation. Thank goodness I can cuss when I say it. It almost makes the hollow vibe feel real. In the end is love going to be what saves us? Another platitude founded on a belief that has yet to be proven true. We all die. We are all forgotten. So what is the point? She lifts her head up from the smoke and tells me the point is to....another cloud, another coughing fit. She was about to offer me a placation, a false hope, and a platitude all wrapped up in her paper of pretty words and held together with a bow of dreams.  Not Yet.