I, Me, Myself by Anastasia Kononenko

Catching a glimpse of her on the street,

one may think, well, she's gorgeous. Her gaze is always deep in thought — as actors and performers know, thinking on stage adds to the beauty of the person. She doesn't control it at all, though, being neither an actress nor a performer. She's too unusual to be the former, too simple to fit in the role of a latter. And on the second glance, one can finally notice — she is not beautiful at all.

Her nose is slightly crooked, and her lips are too thin. Overall, the whole face is a bit asymmetrical if you look long enough. Dark hair highlights her shiny skin, contrasting the long neck, and it makes no sense — tall women tend to have long hair to dull themselves into the ground. All beige, monotonous clothes — but it's not about this one. She is wearing a thrifted hazel jacket and a pair of boots worn enough to be thrown away. They match a colourful tattoo on her left arm.

She doesn't bother to pretend to be beautiful, not controlling her eyes to seem to be lost in thought. She doesn't control a thing in her life. And this is clear as day.