Having just traveled out to the country, scooting and walking about in solitude for the better part of 12 hours, I have a wealth of things I could write about. Material for perhaps a dozen solid blog posts filtered through my mind. In my sleepless state though I didn’t write anything when I got home.
What I did was try to stay awake until 4pm and surf the internet. It’s now 3pm. I like 4pm because if you stay up for 24 hours then you have a sleep debt of 16 hours, so 4pm wakes you up roughly around 8am. That’s the idea anyway.
Somehow or other I started looking at noses. I want to have my nose straightened because it’s making my smile asymmetrical and too distracting to make people feel good inside as I would hope.
I got onto nose jobs. Google images. I started looking at types of noses, something I’ve looked at before. I searched for ugly noses. The world’s ugliest nose. Then disfigurements. People without noses. Just holes in the front of their face. A guy with a black shapeless hole in his face with a steel band keeping it concave.
I got onto general disfigurements. Babies born with hideous growths on their faces. A toddler’s face with orifices in all the wrong places. Acid attack victims. A man whose mouth curled outside because he was attacked by wolves. Burn victims with the melted thing going on.
These are sad, sad people. People who don’t want to leave the house. People who hate their lives. Hate the way they look in the mirror. Whose partners probably resent them if they’re even still around. A saw this one photo of a mother holding her baby who had this grotesque birthmark like a big sagging bunch of grapes on the left side of her face. I vividly remember the look in the mother’s eyes.
Having said that it’s beliefs such as this, that it isn’t worth living such a life, that partly makes their lives hard. Because we all share a lot of these beliefs via social conditioning. I don’t want to write off these people. Maybe they can find meaning. It would surely be a struggle though. They should wear burkas I think, to be fair.
For every one person who is seriously disfigured, there are hundreds of people with less serious imperfections. Myself, I have hands which are smaller than 3/4 of men even though I’m taller than 3/4 men. This has caused me a great deal of suffering over the years but lately, I feel like I’m that suffering has transmuted into power. Somehow. I’m getting validation but not sex, but on the other hand, I behave as if deep down I don’t really want sex or I’m too conflicted about it, so I don’t know if I’m too ugly to get laid or not. Even though I’ve gotten laid in the past when I played the game the belief I seem pressured to accept is that I should accept the mantle of inadequacy, and yet somehow also be ok with it in some cool person sort of way. This is what they call finding the sweet spot.
Anyway, I think something meaningful about the existence of disfigured people is that by carrying on they can make the 90% who are ‘inadequate’ feel happier. Maybe they should be more in the public eye for this reason. That would make others like them feel better too.
Scrolling through these images though I was just thinking to myself “oh God, I’d kill myself”. I couldn’t find acceptance. Then I came to a photo of Pope Francis face-to-face with a man who had a completely concave face, and he was holding his gaze. He was motioning up to heaven. Then another one with him hugging this man whose face was a mass of bulbous red growths.
I’m not a religious man but this made me weep. The thought that these people could get a second chance at happiness in heaven. That they didn’t have to be victims of the cruelness of nature, and then that was their case closed. It’s the best reason I’ve seen for religion in the modern day. What can humanism offer these people? Nothing much except meditation and psychotherapy for dealing with an onslaught of social pressure. Technology offers marginal improvements such as giving them something resembling a nose or eventually getting it back into a general face-shape.
Again though I think the best thing would be some sort of burka or solemn mask, with a medical tag so people know it’s not a terrorist. And people bowed compassionately whenever they saw someone wearing this, knowing they have suffered greatly. And children would see this behavior and they would start doing it instinctively when they got older and that would be the culture. And the afflicted persons received disability pension so they could pursue their lives’ meaning and move through the world with relative ease. Perhaps even having a normal job if these masks were so destigmatized. This seems like a project for the left not unlike transgender welfare, doesn’t it?
And as a loving gesture, friends and family members could ask them to remove it occasionally but wouldn’t have to look at the disfigurement constantly, which would be straining on all parties. I think if I were the disfigured person in this context I could deal with that. Throw in some state-sponsored sex therapy and it actually sounds pretty good.
*Edit: I may have screwed up the sleeping time calculations