It's been a while since I've written here.
I used to say that I only write here when I'm having a particularly bad day, and as a result all of the entries here seem melancholy and dark. Well, that's not necessarily true. I've had plenty of bad days in the last eleven months or so, but usually I just talk it out with a friend. I'm still not sure why today I've decided to write instead of converse.

My ex girlfriend sent me a letter explaining everything she felt and apologising for her negative actions towards me, asking for forgiveness. Whether I will actually give it is irrelevant at present. What is relevant is that she called me, among various other things, vain and shallow. After a bit of thought, I have come to believe that she is probably right.

I focus far too much upon my physical appearance, even though it is nothing compared to many other young men my age out there. I used to claim that this was due to indecisiveness and anal retentiveness on my part, always ensuring that everything was just so. This is tied in with self-consciousness. I always have the slight feeling that everyone around me is staring at me and so if I have one hair on my head out of place, I shall be judged as being aesthetically deficient. These wonderful, admirable attributes of my personality coupled together seem to result in what appears to be vanity.

Recently, I have picked up the camera and photography has become my passion. At first it was simple landscapes or candid shots, but now I have become focussed, it seems, upon using models. These are not just any models, but only the ones I see fit to be photographed. That is, only the ones I am attracted to (female) or wish I could look like (male). Several of my friends have hinted at using themselves as models, or perhaps their own friends in my shots, but I have always conveniently failed to follow these suggestions up. This is simply because their face is not aesthetically satisfactory in my opinion, or because they do not have a fashion sense I approve of, or simply because they are not skinny enough (or in rare cases, too skinny). This is my most extreme example of what seems to be shallowness, an obsession with skin-deep beauty.

However, if I put the reasoning behind my two obsessions together, they simply turn into one. Self-consciousness leads not only to paranoia of being judged, but also judging of others. A mirror is still a view of someone to be judged by appearance. But perhaps they are one and the same. My vices are not vanity and shallowness, my vice is simply and obsession with the aesthetical and an urge to attain it. My vice is a love and desire of physical beauty.

Now that I think about it I had always felt this way throughout my life (Hollywood didn't help), but it was not until recently when I came to this country that I suddenly had the money, time and unrestricted effort to pursue my goal of looking the way I wanted. Once that was secure, it seems I turned my eyes to the wonderful joyous evils of DeviantArt. It was there that I discovered beautiful pictures of people around the world who were gorgeous beyond my imagination, with perfect faces and perfect bodies, depicted in perfect lighting in perfect settings. Over months, I hoarded what I saw to be were the best pictures from the website, never anything but photography, and almost never anything but photos of models. And then I picked up the camera myself.

This ugly secret (about being obsessed with beauty, oh the irony) runs deeper than I previously realised. Every close female friend I have, I have either dated, flirted with, romantically loved, been physically intimate with, or at least had a crush on. None of them are what I would call ugly, and if I review my track record, being deemed 'not ugly' by me is apparently quite an achievement. This means that I only have attractive female friends, subconsciously selected by me. Does this mean I will never be able to befriend a girl or woman that is not up to par with my aesthetic standards?

This is wrong. Why do I feel this way? I feel sickened by myself. I disgust me. What kind of person am I to be obsessed like this? It's not like I'm bolemic or anorexic, is it? Surely I don't need to see professional help... This is my problem, I need to fix it.
...But what the hell am I supposed to do?

Don't hate me because I'm beautiful. Hate me because on the inside at least, I am hideous.