The Struggles of Being Me
By Sebastian Locke
Everyday when I wake up I think to myself, “Wow. It’s great to be me.” The sun has the prestigious honor of shining its light on my glorious face, welcoming me to a new day. As I walk to my mirror, I glance at my reflection and see my face- my beautiful, beautiful face. After my morning juice cleanse, I relax on my hammock and ponder about none other than…me. While I suppose I should feel pity for those who aren’t me, why should I? Shouldn’t I instead be jealous that they get to admire this beautiful face while I am limited to only my reflection in the mirror, my reflection in water, my reflection in windows, my reflection in my phone, my reflection in other people’s phones, my reflection in people’s glasses, and my reflection in people’s eyes. Why should I sympathize with those fortunate souls who hold the great pleasure of feasting their unworthy eyes on my handsome visage all day and everyday. It is a gift as well as a curse to be so limited in my ability to appreciate my own beauty. As I go throughout my day, I envy those who have the privilege to selfishly peer at my beauty- why do they get to admire me when I cannot. However great the difficulties are, I must accept my fate. It is my duty to allow others this great joy. I must learn to understand that not everyone can be as wonderful, as fantastic, as gorgeous, as superb, as inspiring, as breathtaking, and as me as well…me. If only everyone can learn to emulate the being that is me. Poor them and yet also- poor me. Before closing my eyes to sleep at night, I remember the wonderful thing I have given to all those who can appreciate the wonder that is me. You’re welcome you poor poor plebeians. Woe is me.