Beautiful

The new maid at my house is enough potential to sow the seeds of jealousy in me. Her face is oval shaped with high cheekbones and smooth skin. Her eyes aere almond-shaped, flawless, the shape of her lips is wonderful.

I think she's running away from her village to this city since she became the village flower there. Surely she lived of many troublesome because she was always contested by too many men. Meanwhile, if I were to be in her position in her village, I can already imagine how the people there will immediately move to another city.

Being beautiful is certainly different from being clever, or what people say as inner beauty, that beauty is in the course will shine out and make us look more attractive. For now, I just want to stick with the outward appearance.

During this time I feel uncomfortable when suddenly the title of "pretty" attached to my name. My nose flared, my cheeks were burning, and my eyes were only able to stare at the floor. I almost never feel beautiful. Furthermore, I kept reminding myself not to bother looked in the mirror to check my appearance. If not exhaled a long breath, then I would pout because I was always disappointed to find what was in the mirror image.

One second I would be swayed by the appearance of myself, of course the first thing that happened was I met the lovely models who glared at me from top to bottom. And because my head just as high as her waist, I was not able to hear what her comments about me.

I have many friends with beautiful faces. A lot. And really beautiful. I often stared at every inch of their face and suddenly wanted to take the insecticide. I also believed, my friends sometimes had loss of memory, consequently they praised me one day. While smiling, I stammered in thank, but in the bottom of my heart I was sure they forgot to take their medication, and hence they were hallucinating.

When I reflect and its reflection makes ​​me speechless and in awe, then I know, out there, I just only need a maximum of five minutes for at least spilling the food sauce to my dress in the chest. One minute ago, I may just be a fascinating woman in the restroom, but when I step out with my chin lifted up more than usual, my eyes almost blind due to another woman who is so bright because of extraordinary beautiful.

I know there will be days when I do not want to feel out of the house and just sleep all day and dream to be beautiful as Daria Werbowy, for example, or Tamara Lazic, Lise Anne Marsal, or mmmm... maybe Nasalis Larvatus ... ehehehe ...

Daria Werbowy

Lise Anne Marsal

Tamara Lazic

And maybe what I need on a day-to-day as it's just to remember the words of my friends that, ... well, I can look pretty. For example, when it rains, with a knitted coat and hair in pigtails, and thick glasses though, I still get compliments.

So maybe I do not have to be a peacock which always looks smug with her appearance, and more importantly, I also do not have to equate myself with ostrich which  more often submerges her head into the ground in shame. What I should remember is when others appear more beautiful than me, of course it's not the end of everything. I try to believe that I am still beautiful in my own way.

And if I still twiddling my eyes, not satisfied with the appearance of myself, I always consult with my maid earlier. I'm sure she can educate me to be the next village flower.



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