...

I look at others who manage more attention from showing their face, and I think about my lack of a face. It flows into just about everything I express...

( )

And when I look in the mirror I'm not disgusted, I just don't believe it. I just don't believe in what's there, and I don't think surgery could solve that feeling.

( )

There it is again. It's just parentheses with nothing in-between. I know there's eyes, a nose, and a mouth in there, but I'd be lying if I drew them.

...

Death might solve my funny feeling. Nobody knows what brains are, and nobody knows what death is, so we all might be surprised.

Luckily I don't care enough.

¯\_( )_/¯