Santiago

Today, a friend followed me Everywhere I went-- my classes, work, lunch, rehearsal, bathroom, and the like. I didn't know him until today, and I do hope he'll be gone by tomorrow. His name is Santiago and he is a preposterously large zit on my face. He's an audacious fellow that insists on being known by anyone who walks by. He has a squeaky voice with a Mexican accent and he likes to whisper in my ear that I'm a ruined man because of him and should never look anybody in the eye again. He dances across my face in his Mexican Hat Dance style, drawing everyone's attention to him rather than me. It's disturbing and unsightly and I must purge him from my company as soon as possible.
Sadly, I listened to those lies that Santiago told me-- that I was ruined because of his ugliness and that I wasn't worth looking people in the eye, because I would probably disturb them. Today was a rare day that I had head phones in my ears everywhere I went-- listening to Stars, the National, etc., never acknowledging anybody, because I most definitely did not want to be acknowledged. Somehow, Santiago made me less of a human than anybody else, because I was ugly and they weren't.
There's a movie out called How's Moving Castle, and in this movie, Howl, the one with the moving castle, profoundly questions "What good is life if I cannot be beautiful?"

I'm too tired to go on.
The end.