Day #3

So I was just on www.sixbillionsecrets.com and I read this post. I'm assuming the author won't mind me writing about it.
"

I'm pretty now.

Skinny, frail, pale.

I look like an angel.

That is, if you can't see the IV pouring drugs into my arm.

If you can see the scars that criscross my chest.

If you can't see the cancer slowly building up in my heart.

See my cancer made me pretty, but it also makes me dead."

 ...

All I can think is "wow". I mean, I'm not even sure what to think 


It kinda makes me think about life though. Like, everything that life is made up to be? It's all fake. Those magazines with stunningly beautiful girls, all the hair products and different brands of make-up? None of it means anything. Not when you're dying. 


I think there's a lot of meaning behind this post. First is exactly like the person said, how she is beautiful because of her disease. The second is that regardless of being small and pale and pretty, she is dead. If you cover who you are, and buy into all the crap that life has to offer you, you're dead. You might be considered the most beautiful girl in the world, but all the flaws that made you yourself are gone. YOU are dead. Your soul, the piece of you that really counts: it's gone.   


She looks like a broken angel, stuck, never to get out of the condition she's in. Isn't that how we all are? 

Before I donated my hair, I always complained about it. It never straightened right. Pieces of my bangs went the wrong way. It was way to thick. It wasn't the same color, and it looked fake. It got floofy unless I was careful, or put hairspray in it. I never had time to make it look cute because it was to much work.


The second the lady cut my hair, and handed it to me, I held it in my fingers and realized I've never seen more beautiful hair. The sweet, honey-colored highlights blended with the darker ones so beautifully. It was thick, yes, but it was so so so beautiful! It was straight, and long and silky, and soft to the touch. In those few moments I held my hair, I realized just how blessed I was to have it. 
And now it will be at least another year or two before I have it the same again. I'm stuck with a short little ponytail for a while. But it took that for me. I had to be without it before i realized how lucky I was to have it. And I realized, if I was the cancer patient to receive my hair, I would love it for its thickness, and its highlighted-looking coloring.

I think that the girl who posted this secret is pointing out how she achieved her dream: she looks beautiful, how she's always wanted to look. But it's not her. And she would rather be herself, flaws and all, then be "beautiful".

That's what I made of the story anyways.