Elan Morgan is a writer and web designer who works from Elan.Works, a designer and editor at GenderAvenger, and a speaker who has spoken across North America. They believe in and work to grow both personal and professional quality, genuine community, and meaningful content online.

An Open Letter To Festering Sore

Dear Festering Sore (née Deep Pimple):

I have to admit that I thought you were pretty cool at first. I could feel the pressure of your new growth under the skin next to my nose, and I had that excited feeling I get whenever I anticipate something I enjoy.

I know that happily anticipating the growth of a deep, infected zit may sound odd, but I really do enjoy the satisfaction that comes from squeezing out all the junk after one of you has risen to full pus capacity. So, really, I was only excited to see you because I knew that I would eventually murder you.

It is not a sweet life into which you are born, and for that, I am sorry.

But that was way back in the days when you were known as Deep Pimple. Now, as butterflies transmogrify from caterpillars, you are known as Festering Sore, and I am much less crazy about you. There is no gleeful waiting, fingers tented, searching each morning for that telltale yellow head. No. Now, you are no more than a peeling scab, a peeling scab which resulted from a dissatisfying squeeze. If you had at least offered up some decent ooze, I might be more forgiving, but you did not.

You, Festering Sore, are a buzzkill.

In your present state, you defy make-up. You bleed after showers. You flake. I know that you like the attention and that you have been getting a lof it by the way people talk to you more than to me, but you need to get off my face now.

Your kind's hayday expired a century or so ago, and 2008 wants nothing to do with you. Nor, for that matter, do I.

Sincerely,
Schmutzie.

50x365 #176: Diesel

50x365 #175: Tracey W.