Okay. On the last day of school a bunch of people were given samples of this anti-pimple cream (which also moistens your skin). On a whim, I took 16 (I like that number. Stop looking at me like that.) and didn't know what to do with them, because although I am pimpled, I don't really bother to do anything about it.
But I thought because I got sixteen packets I could maybe do something. But maybe not.
And so this happened.
To cleanse, or not to cleanse, that is the question:
Whether 'tis Nobler in the mind to suffer
The Unevenness and Blemishes of outrageous Acne,
Or to take Arms against a Sea of pimples,
And by opposing erase them: to scrub, to pimple
No more; and by a face-wash, to say we end
The Heart-ache, and the thousand Natural bumps
That Faces are heir to? 'Tis an ending
Devoutly to be wished. To scrub to not-pimple,
To not-pimple, perhaps to Hope; Aye, there's the scrub,
For in that cream of smooth skin, what dreams may come,
When we have stripped off this mortal imperfection,
Must give us delight. There's the insecurity
That makes Self-Consciousness of so long life:
For who would bear the Blotches and Redness of pimples,
The Nature's wrong, the proud one's Downfall,
The pangs of despised Blemishes, the Perfection's delay,
The insolence of Bumps, and the Spurns
That shallow peers of the unworthy makes,
When he himself might be under the mask
With bare red skin? Who could possibly bear,
To walk and live under a mask of red,
But that the dread of pimples during puberty,
The undiscovered Cream, from whose absence
No Teenager bears,Destroys the confidence,
And makes us sadly bear those pimples we have,
And associate with others that pimples know not of.
Thus Self-awareness does make Cleansers of us all,
And thus the Natural bumps of our Skin
Are smoothed o'er, with the pale cast of Cream,
And teenagers of great ordinariness and average,
With this balm Nature's Curse turn awry,
And lose the name of Unsightliness. Soft skin now,
The magical Cream? Dermatologists, in thy Achievements
Be all my thankfulness sent.