sometimes, when I am very tired

I like my face

(which is sort of funny, because that is when it looks even worse than it usually does. But on those days)

I like the starkness, the harshness, the odd lines. I think it usually only happens when I am very tired, because that is when I don't care. I don't care whether I am pretty or not. Those days, I know I wont find pretty in my face, so I don't bother looking, or trying desperately to make it other than it is, I see it as it is, and that is just fine.
I like those days.
I don't become any more attractive, but I don't judge myself on those days, by whether or not someone would be attracted to me, by whether or not I look soft, or sexy, or feminine by current standards ( I view my feminity on those days, by fact, I am female, thus I look as a female should), I don't ask whether or not anyone would ever want to be close to, or kiss such a face ( and look at my face through the lens of that question). No, I just see shapes, and forms, lines and colors, like an interesting piece of drift wood, brought ashore by the sea. I don't ask it to be other than what it is, I don't compare it to roses, or sun lit clouds, I see what it is, and find the beauty in that. Somedays, I can do that with my face. (not compare it to those on TV, or those in magazines, not harass it for not looking like any of those pretty others, not go on insisting that it should, that it is supposed to, and that it has all gone very wrong, and can't be right, because it doesn't.) When I can get rid of that filter, that way of viewing and appraising, on those days, my crazy, big, dented, crooked nose, doesn't bother me, nor do my "where are they?" eyebrows (that make me look like Oto from Deep Space Nine), nor my little eyes, and thin lips, nor all that face, with polka spots and wrinkles, nor the mass of wild frizzy hair framing it, all around. All that harshness of feature which I so wish was all softness on all the other days. No, none of that, bothers me, on those days.
On those days, I like the odd crooked lines.
On those days
I only ask myself, to be who I already am.

but of course, that was just today, and wont be very often among my tomorrows.
For me, Those days, are rare, few and far between, like finding beach glass, I suppose,
I have never found any, but it is on my list of things I would like to do.

Do you find much beach glass?

P.S- sorry for the freaky picture, it is like attack of the monster eye.
I would be embarrassed If I didn't happen to find it funny. Apparently what I find amusing, trumps, what I find embarrassing. A personal insight gained, not of the same degree I might get if I would go to therapy, but still, for a blog, I'll take what insights I can get.