I drink Diet Soda so I can have Real Cake

Your mirror is a liar.
There. I said it.
There is nothing more revolting, nothing more nauseating, then seeing yourself in the mirror then looking at a magazine cover and saying “I’ll never be that pretty.” Just dampens your mood for the rest of the day, doesn’t it? Let me tell you a little secret. As an artist who critics anything on the shelves (whether at an art show or in Wal-Mart) I have met nothing more ugly than people on covers.
("I may be fat, asshole, but at least my parents know where I am instead of looking around the poles to see if I somehow was standing behind them, and if you don’t shut your trap I’ll rearrange your face to look like your non-existent ass, savvy?")
“An artists’ worst critic is himself” my old teacher told me as I had glared hatefully down at a drawing (that later got me twenty bucks at an art show, who knew?) but that saying has never been true enough than now. Personally, I’ve worked with Photoshop, and when you use that program, you see it everywhere. There is no relief from the falsehoods I see, Young Grasshopper.
Brushes, paint, add a bit of color here… I made my best friend look like a supermodel in three hours and sixteen minutes. Sad, isn’t it?
And I see it mostly in movies and Magazines. It’s on commercials, television, music (IS THERE NO ESCAPE?). Once I thought of blinding myself and walking around the city. Free. My parents said no, but a blindfold works just as well. Do it someday. Don’t look at the mirror. Don’t glance at the magazine. Hold your head up high because you’re here for something on this Earth and, by golly, you might as well be damn proud of it!
I pity the artist who knows that he has something to draw and can’t get it down on paper. I pity the writer who has something to say but can’t seem to get the words out of their mouth. I pity the girls and women who force themselves to be something they’re not. I pity the boys and guys who are forced to be “man” enough when they want to write poetry and be romantic.
The best thing I ever did in my life was try acting. I had the best damn teacher in the world. She taught me that you perform for no one but yourself. An English teacher told me the same thing two years later about writing. Never, ever, give up anything you love for someone else. Do not change yourself for another person’s benefit. Even if you love that person to bits.
That’s called peer pressure, Kiddos. Do the opposite. If that person loves you, they won’t force you to do anything.
I like cake, cookies, chocolate, Root Beer, Italian food, smoothies, Kudos bars, gory movies, the Disney Golden Age, Ireland, the U.S. of A., bright colors, dark colors, drawing, writing, reading, driving, camping, hiking, playing Tomb Raider (AKA: Killing Lara Croft), Subway, English Class, being obnoxious, acting, and not giving a damn about what the world feels about me.
You and I
You and me.
We’re the blessed ones, the damned ones, we have a single talent but by God how we can use it!
Talk loud.
Speak up.
You’re you.
I’m me.
We’re writers.
Talk to me.

(As in the words of Gabriel Iglesias: “I drink Diet Soda so I can eat real cake!”)