If it’s true that you can judge a person’s character by their physical appearance then the only conclusion I can draw about myself is that I’m some sort of scumbag. From the half-bald head, to the unsymmetrical forehead wrinkles, and the overall physique of a captive and lethargic orangutan, with the pot belly, lanky limbs, and protruding nipples, just about everything about me is repulsive. When I look in the mirror I feel as though I’m being tortured, and I’m biased in favor of myself, which makes considering how others see me all the more unsettling. Going off the idea that looks equal righteousness, then I must also be growing more evil by the day, because it’s not a stagnant ugliness. Across my back and chest is sprouting out a field of curly black or brown hairs, nasty wiry little things that often become ingrown, creating awful boils that swell and swell until eventually bursting and sending their fluids out over the surrounding hairs, and then those fluids dry, creating a crust like layer in the affected area. Is this the physiognomy of a troll or some kind of gremlin? What does it say about me? Who am I? What course of action should I take? I don’t know, I really don’t know. I can’t see myself as a protagonist anymore, I can’t imagine scenarios in which I win. In my recent dreams I find myself running, running from those who hunt me.