One was sitting on the bed. The other was on a chair. The one on the bed was virtually retouching a photograph on his laptop while the one on the chair was admiring the same but the untouched version of it in his own computer. Once the one on the bed was done he said, “See how awesome it looks now!”
“But that’s not what it naturally was.”
“Okay! But I’ll get more likes in FB than your natural one would.” He mocked.
This was not the first time he saw his friend re-touch a photograph. It made the one sitting on the chair wonder:
Most of the time his friend’s action was a reaction to his presumption of other’s judgment and an imaginary conclusion of it being embarrassing. At every step he had this pervert urge to re-touch his natural self to become more acceptable. But, isn't embracing the imperfection within one a part of being oneself too? And isn't the will-to-re-touch something natural itself a disgusting way to puncture one’s self-esteem?
“I’ll put the photograph just the way I took it. More than anyone else’s like, I love it that way.” The one on the chair said.