My Face

My facial features are essentially responsible for providing me with an identity in society, and whether these features suit my preferences or not, they’re the one’s God has given me, and with that my opinion is, to a certain degree, irrelevant. My forehead, although rather large, is generally no different than a majority of the other foreheads to compare to, besides the scattered freckles or inconvenient blemishes. With the help of an occasional set of tweezers or scissors, my eyebrows retain their separation and are shaped accordingly. My eyes are a green color with a small amount of hazel slowly fading in closer to the pupil. My nose is retrousse and concave, and on either side of it lies my cheeks. Like my forehead, they don’t deserve any merit and shouldn’t be recognized for having a striking distinction, except for the freckles (of which there are few) and blemishes (of which there are far to many). Normally covered with some brand of gloss or sparkle, and open to many different types of foods and treats, my lips bear no rarities or abnormalities, their size not too big or too small. Lastly, my chin, of which I’m glad to say I have but one, is not structured or well-defined, but it satisfies my opinion. If given the option to make any changes, there would only be a few.

While to do appreciate my face’s proportions and structure, the fact that it’s being raided by bacteria-infested pimples is not particularly appealing. Whether it be genetics or poor cleansing or both, it is a nuisance I’ve grown tired of seeing and attempting to treat. Patience and tolerance are my only options, and I’ve inherited both over time. Another annoyance are my cheeks. They have a tendency to turn bright red at the worst of times. Of course when I’m embarrassed, it‘s likely to happen, but it occurs not only then but also when I’m perfectly content and comfortable, and this leaves people assuming I had just spent a day in the sun. Luckily, these are only minor issues I...