Friday, February 08, 2013

Self-Assessment: Seth

I try not to look in mirrors, except when I’m shaving.  You might call it superstition. I call it being careful.  I’ve seen some things in mirrors that would chill your blood. Some of them have been me.

Still, it’s good to take stock once in a while, adjust my mental image – which occasionally insists I am a smallish 12-year old able to heft a large axe only because adrenaline kicks in when I’m faced with a monster that wants me dead.  I still face those, but I’m more likely to shoot them or punch them in the face – if they have one.  Axes aren’t particularly handy to carry and are harder to conceal.

I am no longer small by any measure. I stand somewhere around 6’3” – at least that’s what it says on my license – and even for my height, I’m on the heavy side. Mostly muscle with the occasional overlay of cheeseburger and beer. I tend to burn that off quickly, though, so most of the time I’m pretty ripped. I don’t stay fit for vanity. I do it for survival and sanity.  Running gives me time to think, and sometimes the ability to run away is the only thing between me and impending death.  Lifting weights or hitting the bag gives me the space to not think.  Also, there aren’t always monsters available, but I almost always want to hit things.

It might be easier to explain my propensity for violence if I wasn’t so damned smart. Again, not vanity.  I never did understand why I should pretend to be less than I am simply to make other people feel better about their own perceived shortcomings. I’m the last person to judge someone else’s worth based on socially-accepted criteria, since those same standards brand me a freak.

Right, I was supposed to be looking at myself in the mirror, not examining the inside of my head.  I don’t think either one is particularly pretty, but neither is so bad that people shy away.  I’m perfectly plain in so many areas that it sometimes surprises me that I’m just so goddamned special in others. Sure would be nice if it was the other way around, but my nose has been broken too many times, and my body is covered with scars – ritual, incidental, life-altering.  Puts some women off, and some men, too. Funny how a well-placed scar can help end a bar fight before it begins.  Not often, but often enough.

The rest? Brown hair, straight, and a bit too long. Depending on how much I’ve been in the sun, it might have hints of gold in it. Not like I pay all that much attention, but girls have said.  My eyes are a light brown with a lighter ring of gold around the edges and tiny green flecks. Again, the source of that knowledge is female. I don’t stare into my own eyes, for fear of what I might see there. It’s amazing women are willing to do so, but I’m not arguing.  My jaw is strong and usually scruffy.  I’ve been told I have a nice mouth. I just think it’s wide. 

My face looks a little blocky, but the last dude to fit me for a suit went on about my cheekbones, so I guess they might be attractive. Who the hell thinks about stuff like that? Besides that guy, obviously.  Nate says I look like a Neanderthal, with my big forehead, but I’m pretty sure he said that just to prove he knows what a supraorbital ridge is.  Granted, when I have a hangover, I drag myself around and grunt a lot, but I figure that just makes me male.

Okay, that’s about as much talking about my looks as I can stand.  They’re probably the least interesting thing about me.  Trust me, you don’t want to know about the most interesting.

Someone asked what Seth looks like. This was the best he could do for me, the blighter.

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