pimples.

one of the things that bother me the most in life are pimples. they come in all shapes, sizes, and colors. they pop up on the nose, the forehead, the chin, and the cheek. they are the absolute worst. and the most terrible part is that i kind of know how to combat them. there are a few ways.

number one: wash my face.
this is an obvious one. if my face is clean and dirt-free, then i am less likely to get pimples.

number two: don’t touch my face.
another easy thing to do. if i don’t touch my face, then there will be less dirt and, therefore, fewer pimples.

number three: don’t pick at my “problem spots”
problem spots are spots that may develop into a full-blown pimple. sometimes you can feel them, and sometimes if you look really, really closely (like maybe with a magnifying glass) you can see them. either way, they are not yet truly visible. however, they become visible when they are picked, poked, and popped.

number four: drink lots of water.
this one is so easy. i have a water bottle in my backpack always. all i need to do is fill it up, drink it, and repeat a few times every day. i even went through a phase where i did this. but then i got my period and peeing almost every hour really became a hindrance.

number five: don’t eat too much sugar or dairy.
this is so far out of the question i have never actually considered it. dairy, most commonly in the form of cheese, is my great love. i cannot and will not live in a world where i need to monitor the amount of time i spend with it.

pimples are predictable. i can fight them. these ugly blots could be rid from my face forever. and herein lies my problem. i can get rid of most pimples if i put in the time and effort. but i don’t. i know how to achieve the clear, soft skin that i notice on roommates and friends and random people who i sit near in the library. i want to have that baby-bottom skin. i want to say “oh, me? no,  i don’t even own foundation” while onlookers ogle my flawless façade and sigh with jealousy. but i don’t make it happen. i complain about my the red bulge sticking off my temple and the white dot that seems to scream “look! a gross build-up of puss!” from its prominent seat on my jawline. and i do nothing. i have all the tools, i want the results, but i am too lazy to act.

sometimes i convince myself that i don’t have time to do one thing because i have way too many other things building up (which i normally don’t). sometimes i just tell myself that i have combination skin, which the facialist at the spa i went to while i was on vacation that one time told me is hard to treat. so it’s really not my fault. i just have it hard. some lucky people don’t even have to try. some people never wash their faces and don’t drink the recommended amount of water every day, and they still don’t get pimples. if i were like those people this wouldn’t be an issue.

and why do i even want to get rid of my pimples? because i think they are ugly. i think that other people see them and cringe and think to themselves, “thank goodness i have no offensively disgusting blemishes on my face. how embarrassing that would be.” but when i sit alone in my room, when i’m with my mom, or when i’m far away from any torturous mirror, i don’t think about the little pods of puss that cover my skin like vanilla sprinkles. pimples don’t make me sick or tired or weak. they don’t make me stupider or more boring. they definitely don’t change who i am. but i feel like they change how other people see me. i hate these pimples because i think they make me ugly.

if my face were dewy and soft and pimple-free, i think i would be more beautiful. i know how to make this happen. there are many ways through which i could obtain this jennifer-aniston-level skin. and while i do wash my face twice a day, that is it. i do not put in the effort needed to produce the product i want. i don’t know what is worse: that i hate people so much because i care an equally large amount about my appearance or that i am so lazy i still choose pimples.

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pimples.