Sometimes I have trouble choosing the right face for the day. My handlers have said it should be of little matter really, for most appear largely the same. Yet the differences are subtle but educative. I cannot, for instance, wear my intense face when the day’s proceedings are to be light-hearted. Similarly, the sly wink of the jester face does not suit a corporate meeting. So I must select carefully, and plan for the day ahead.
That kind of kills spontaneity and creativity, but there are always prices to be paid I suppose.
Still, this is the hardest part of the transition. They did not fully relate this to me when I signed up. At the outset everything seems more attractive. One never reads the fine print. All the advertisement said was:
‘You can now be ageless, beautiful, complete: your new self, your new face, every expression protected, every nuance available, but with ageing now but a thing of the past.’
That sounded so helpful when I read it. I’d had enough of creams and lotions and botox brought me out in a rash. How convenient to be endlessly young and lovely, but still be able to emote. For I do work in an office, I admit, but I yearn for the silver screen, so expressions were required.
But now it’s so tiring to decide, and no matter what they said, you can’t exchange one ‘face’ for another during the day. And there is only one face for night, even if you get lucky, and that tends to stop the latter fairly quickly.
But there’s no going back, once you’re in. All that’s left of my real face, underneath, is the scaffolding of sinew and bone. It’s rather horrific to see it each time I put on my ‘face’ for the day, but that’s private at least.
As I said, it’s always the fine print, and it’s never good to be part of the first launch of something new. They haven’t got the kinks out of it and in the end, that means the kinks are left in me.
Not that you’d know it by my face….
(c) Helen M Valentina 2016