November PAD Challenge 2023: Day 2: Stuffed Animal Senryu

 

Base image by Trevor Vannoy on Unsplash

my stuffed animals

some nearly as old as me

they deserve better

notes

https://www.writersdigest.com/write-better-poetry/2023-november-pad-chapbook-challenge-day-2

Write a childhood object poem.

This Senryu references the fact that I've moved around a lot and often lived in less than ideal circumstances. I've always wanted to have a place to display my stuffed animals. I'm now in a more stable circumstance but many of the Stuffies are still in boxes. They deserve better. 

I added text art and effects to the base image using Pixlr. You are welcome to share the resulting Haiga, but please credit Cara Hartley/Ornery Owl if you do. A link back to this blog is also appreciated.

~Ornery Owl Has Spoken~

Image by Mami Miyashima from Pixabay

30 Days of Haiga 2022: Land of Enchantment

 

text

land of enchantment

rich in history and art

stained by poverty

notes

This Senryu was prompted by this week's Earthweal prompt, which asks us to:

Sketch a landscape — it can be your personal history, or a place you inhabit now or did once.

https://earthweal.com/2022/09/19/earthweal-weekly-challenge-historys-mysteries/

I utilized the software at Pixlr.com and a free-use image by Herrema51 on Pixabay to create today's Haiga.

https://pixabay.com/photos/santa-fe-new-mexico-rugs-2367043/

I lived in Albuquerque between the ages of four and ten. New Mexico is rich in history and culture. However, the artistic splendor of a city like Santa Fe on one end of the spectrum is countered by grueling poverty on the other end. 

I lived in a very poor part of Albuquerque. The house we lived in seemed a bit cobbled together and at night cockroaches the size of school buses would infest the kitchen. It still gives me the heebie jeebies thinking about it. 

We didn't have a lot of money for food. We had a flock of chickens, and sometimes one of the roosters would end up becoming dinner. We ate foods such as boiled soybeans and buckwheat groats. I liked the buckwheat groats. I put butter and honey on them. If I never see another boiled soybean, it won't be too soon. Boiled soybeans are one of the foods they serve in hell. 

I like other soy-based foods. I like tofu. It absorbs the flavors of other foods in a stir fry and it makes a decent substitute for eggs or chicken when making an egg or chicken salad. It isn't that my son and I don't eat eggs or chicken. We do, but they are more expensive than tofu, so we tend to save them for other dishes since tofu salad is tasty. 

I like roasted and salted soybeans. They have a nice nutty flavor. 

I don't loathe boiled soybeans the way I do something like liver, which makes the entire house stink and tastes like the sole of a shoe that has stomped its way through a swamp and a cow pasture. As to boiled soybeans, if you look in the Dictionary of Real Life under the word "bland," you will see a picture of a cauldron filled with boiled soybeans. Boiled soybeans are the incarnate manifestation of blandness and nothing can make them palatable. They are simply blah. 

So, this is part of my story of life in a poor part of Albuquerque, a place that both shaped me and scarred me. Perhaps there will be more another time.

~Ornery Owl Has Spoken~

Ornery Owl

Free use image from Open Clipart Vectors

April PAD Challenge/NaPoWriMo 2022 Day 15

https://odysee.com/@Musica_Clasica:a/LA-MER---EL-MAR---Claude-Debussy---MP3:8?r=GTwnGJ4fFBQfzuJgpHVpfKBKaC9b8B16

Good morning, Poetry People. It's too early, but I woke from a terrible dream at 3 AM, and since I'd end up in the ER if I called up my old pal Jack Daniels and his partner Jimmy Beam, I decided I'd go down to the sea with my old friend Debussy instead. Never mind all that, let's get started.

This post goes on a bit of a downward spiral at the end, so you may just want to hit it to see the prompts I used and then quit it. In fact, this is the strategy that I advise.

Uninfluenced

https://www.napowrimo.net/day-fifteen-8/

Write a poem about something in which you have absolutely no interest.

I have absolutely no interest in so-called "influencers." I couldn't give a flea fart in an F5 tornado what these self-absorbed prats have to say.

https://www.writersdigest.com/write-better-poetry/2022-april-pad-challenge-day-15

Write a patience poem.

I wrote an anti-patience poem about my lack of patience with self-proclaimed "influencers."

I wonder what has been influencing these very lifelike but thankfully unrealistic dreams I've been having lately. I suppose it's down to stress like it always was. I feel like part of me is being destroyed from within and changed into something cold, dead, and sociopathic, and I'm projecting that feeling onto the image of the person who is closest to me.

I know this makes no sense and I wish I could talk about it with the person I used to discuss dreams with, but they have too much else going on in their life and no time for my mushy-headed bullshit. I imagine that feeling utterly alone, adrift, and misunderstood isn't doing my crap subconscious much good.

For the love of all that may be holy, don't bleat out the old "but mental health professional" bullshit. Those fuckers never helped me a damn bit, plus I live 50 miles from any city, and fuck a whole lot of that shit. I need a friend and preferably one who is open-minded to the metaphysical, not a psychoanalyst. I understand enough about psychology where I can figure that shit out on my own. 

I don't trust easily, and I'm really not looking for anyone to "solve" my problems. Really, I'm simply overthinking things and don't have anyone to help me deflect my pain. Boo fucking hoo, it's not like I'm the last friendless person in the Universe. It's a tale as old as time. I don't need no doctor and I don't want no drugs. I just want to get the last bit of that lousy dream out of my system so I can get back to sleep.

Maybe my old friend Claude can play me a reverie so I can sail back to the Land of Nod and go fishing for better dreams.

~Meanwhile, Ornery Owl is Still Thinking~

Image by Chräcker Heller from Pixabay

https://odysee.com/@Musica_Clasica:a/Debussy--Reverie--mp3:b?r=GTwnGJ4fFBQfzuJgpHVpfKBKaC9b8B16

April PAD Challenge /NaPoWriMo 2022 Day 7

https://odysee.com/@dharmabear:2/Pink-Floyd-Live-at-Pompeii-The-Directors-Cut-1972:f?r=GTwnGJ4fFBQfzuJgpHVpfKBKaC9b8B16

How's it going, Poetry People? We're a week into this year's challenge and today for your inspirational pleasure I present you with a tasty treat. It's the Director's Cut of Pink Floyd Live at Pompeii which includes interviews and studio footage with the band and, of course, you have Pink Floyd's one-of-a-kind prog rock sound to inspire your poetic creations.

Today's chapbook chapter is a Choka inspired by the following three prompts:

Broken New World

Prompts Used

https://chevrefeuillescarpediem.blogspot.com/2022/04/carpe-diem-haiku-kai-1360-new-life.html

I interpreted the prompt as "new world" and described a common scenario from the current dystopia. I take it that nobody reading my poetry or my blog posts is Jeff Bezos, Cruella DeVil, or Elon Musk. If you are Jeff Bezos, Cruella DeVil, or Elon Musk, consider yourself lectured. The rest of you need not take it that way.

Before I hop up on the pulpit, I want to let you know about a free resource that you never have to feel guilty about taking advantage of. I participate in Make It Happen Thursday at the Go Dog Go Cafe. Enjoy sharing tips and tricks for inspiration and breaking out of writer's block while meeting other authors and poets. It's a win-win.

https://godoggocafe.com/2022/04/07/make-it-happen-thursday-10/

And now on to the inspiration behind today's poem.

I feel like I sell my soul every time I publish on Amazon or buy anything on Amazon. I publish there because that's where everyone buys books these days. Amazon allows me to make my books available through Kindle Unlimited so readers can try before they buy. I keep the prices of my books low by selling on Amazon. Publishing on Amazon makes good business sense.

I earn about $5 per week in Amazon gift cards by farting around playing games on my phone through the Just Play app. I take advantage of Amazon pricing. I'd like to think that if I ever make it big, I will be a saint and only buy directly from the source and only sustainably produced goods. I'd like to think that, but I don't know if it's true. I'm guilty of supporting a system that harms others.

https://www.napowrimo.net/day-seven-8/

write a poem that argues against, or somehow questions, a proverb or saying.

I chose the saying "an ill wind blows nobody good" and started the poem with these lines. 

an ill wind blew in

leaving me an abundance

I think I can reveal this much without disqualifying my manuscript from consideration.

https://www.writersdigest.com/write-better-poetry/2022-april-pad-challenge-day-7

write an abundance poem

I zeroed in on the "abundance" that even a broke schlub like me can enjoy by shopping on Amazon, a company that takes advantage of Chinese sweatshop labor and treats its own employees like used snot rags. 

Does Amazon benefit from the permanent lower class that exists in most countries?

Damn skippy. 

Many things need to change before people living on the dole (including disability, social security, and other welfare programs) are willing or able to be super-selective about where their products are coming from. For instance, with meat, I am in proximity to an independently run butcher shop that gets its product from small local farms with high standards for ethical treatment of their livestock. This butcher shop charges no more for this high-quality product than the grocery store does for their meats.

My son and I make compromises in other areas. Most of our food comes from the monthly food bank. Any meat we get through the food bank does not meet these high standards.

Many people are in a worse position than I am. I have a working vehicle. I can drive to Fort Collins once a month to buy meat. While I would prefer that everyone who eats meat purchased an ethically sourced product, I'm not in a position to lecture anybody.

Most of us are not benefiting in the current economy. Raising awareness is one thing, scolding is another. I know I'm more than capable of jumping on my high horse, but I don't enjoy the fall when I get knocked off. My advice is to avoid high horses and to support local businesses whenever you can. I know it isn't always workable when you're one of the Broke Folk.

~Ornery Owl Has Sermonized~

Image by Clker-Free-Vector-Images from Pixabay

30 Days of Haiga 2021: Method to Madness (Double Haiga)

 

Background image by Simon Hurry on Unsplash

Text art and effects by Ornery Owl (Cara Hartley)

Sharing With

Word Prompt: Method

https://girlieontheedge1.wordpress.com/2021/09/19/sundays-six-sentence-story-word-prompt-178/

https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/2021/09/weekly-scribblings-88-equinox.html

Notes if you Need 'Em

Though you don't have to read 'em

Just read the poem if you'd rather

I was inspired by the second and third poems offered for inspiration by Poets and Storytellers for the Weekly Scribblings, though my interpretation might be a bit obscure. 

My heart is indeed jaded, and reason would be welcome, but there is neither reason nor compassion when dealing with government agencies. I see them for what they are: sadistic and soulless collectives that delight in keeping people who are struggling downtrodden. 

I worked as long as I possibly could to avoid having to deal with these Nazgul. Then the day came when the final body part gave way and I couldn't work anymore. I still don't have full range of motion in my left arm and I have to use an upright walker to go more than very short distances.

The knotted, grinding feeling in my stomach and the grinding of my teeth are courtesy of SSDI, Medicare, Medicaid, and the Inhumane Services department here in Shitkicker County. My jaw hasn't ached this much in months.

I started receiving disability payments back in February. Can't live without 'em, but I'd rather not have to live with 'em. 

I was doing fine with SSD plus Medicaid. Then, here comes Medicare. The benefits from Medicare are quite good, but they cost me $140 a month...

Which comes out of my disability check...

The check which just covers bills with a little left over for food and fuel.

The bulk of our household's food comes from the food bank, but it's still necessary to buy some meat and cheese. 

Anyway, I was told to contact Medicaid and have them pay my Medicare premiums.

Which they won't.

Why?

Because my disability check grants me a generous sum of $1390 per month.

The cutoff for Medicaid to pay my Medicare premiums is $1308 a month.

You can read the following links to see how disability screws people.

https://news.cornell.edu/stories/2005/08/people-disabilities-are-forced-poverty-trap

https://blurredbylines.com/articles/ssi-disability-benefits-2k-limit-poverty-able-accounts/

https://ncd.gov/newsroom/2017/disability-poverty-connection-2017-progress-report-release

A person on disability is not allowed more than $2000 in savings.

A person on disability is only allowed one vehicle. So, if you think it would be good to have an auxiliary vehicle in case your main vehicle is in the shop? Ha! You fool, you!

What little money I make comes from doing book reviews. In a good month, I may make $150. Most of the time it's less.

My son and I are being allowed to live in the house where we reside rent-free, courtesy of my ex-husband who owns the house. He used to help us monetarily, but his reserves are tapped. 

I try to have a semi-positive attitude, but lately I want to scream, cry, and throw bricks at Congress and any smug one percenter who spouts off about the trickle-down theory. Also at the space cadets Elon Musk and Jeff Bezos. I'm trying to keep it PG-13 here, but as my late father would have said, these people can go pound sand. 

So, there's my story, it's sad but true.

I surely hope it don't happen to you.

~Ornery Owl Has Spoken~

I wish I could be doing this

Free-use image from Open Clipart Vectors

The Icky, Sticky, Nit-Picky Legalese If You Please (Or Don't Please)

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Food Bank feast

 

Free Use Image by Jamie Nast on Pixabay

https://pixabay.com/photos/turkey-roasted-thanksgiving-feast-448992/

eighteen-pound turkey

courtesy of the food bank

leftovers for days

~cie~

https://www.writersdigest.com/write-better-poetry/2020-november-pad-chapbook-challenge-day-22

Write a bird poem

https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/2020/11/writers-pantry-47-breathe-in-words.html

note time

If all you wanted was the poem, you're done. See ya! Because now it’s time for the Power Haibun portion of the post. Buckle up, Bitches, ‘cause it’s gonna get wordy!

Every third Sunday, there is a food bank at the church in the little town where I live. There are two households in my house. My son and I make up one household and our unrelated housemate makes up the other. As Thanksgiving is coming up, each household got a turkey.

A giant turkey.

An eighteen-pound turkey.

I will be slow-roasting one of the turkeys all day and overnight starting at about noon tomorrow. Then early Thursday morning, my son and I will make the approximately 125-mile drive to my mother’s house. We will have a Thanksgiving lunch, and then my son and I will head home with a butt-ton of leftover turkey.

The food bank is a wonderful resource. I’ve heard people tell bad stories about food bank volunteers. One of my neighbors in the mobile home park where I used to live said that when she went to the food bank, one of the volunteers said to her: “why do you need to come here when you drive a car like that?”

She had a new car because her mother had given it to her.

The food bank where I live does not ask for proof of income. The food is surplus donated by grocery stores. It would be thrown out if it wasn’t given to people.

Today is Tuesday.

I went to the psychological evaluation part of my disability determination process.

I’ve been accused of being a space cadet, but it’s pretty certain that I don’t have dementia.

I do have depression and anxiety. I’ve had those pretty much my entire life. However, the reason I applied for disability is more because of my physical malfunctions than my psychological aberrations.

I have a lawyer, so I hope that will work in my favor. Because I’ve spent almost everything and am now worried about paying next month’s bills.

That’s 369 words

What follows is the CYA and promotional material that appears on every post.

Thanks for reading.

Have a happy Thanksgiving if you celebrate such.

If you don’t, have a good day either way.

This prosery was posted to these places:

http://poetryofthenetherworld.blogspot.com

https://lbry.tv/@poetryofthenetherworld:9

http://www.goodstufffromgrover.com

The Icky, Sticky, Nit-Picky Legalese If You Please (Or Don't Please)

Creative Commons License

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This work is the intellectual property of Naughty Netherworld Press/Poetry of the Netherworld.

Reblogging is acceptable on platforms that allow it. LBRY’s reblog function is called repost, which makes things confusing since reposting is considered a no-no on most platforms. It’s fine to share the post using the repost function on LBRY. It is not okay to copy-paste the material into a new post.

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Quoting portions of the post for educational or review purposes is acceptable if proper credit is given.

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https://bit.ly/getmorepoetry

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Moving Target (Hybronnet)

 

Free use image by Andrew Martin on Pixabay

https://pixabay.com/photos/railway-platform-mind-gap-1758208/

it's hard to ever save enough

when the target keeps on moving

rising bills less income makes rough

each month more spending, more losing

some folk are really shallow

they think others really like

their fields dead, not even fallow

so deep in debt, they can't get right

the rich get rich, the poor stay poor

driven down till they can't get up

some only love the golden lure

laughing at those down on their luck

some people have only money

their lack of kindness unfunny

~cie~

"some people are so poor all they have is money"

https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2020/11/21/saturday-mix-opposing-forces-21-november-2020/

https://www.writersdigest.com/write-better-poetry/2020-november-pad-chapbook-challenge-day-20

Write a "target" poem

Poetry style: Hybronnet

This poem was posted to these places:

http://openmindedsearchfortruth.blogspot.com

http://poetryofthenetherworld.blogspot.com

https://lbry.tv/@poetryofthenetherworld:9

The Icky, Sticky, Nit-Picky Legalese If You Please (Or Don't Please)

Creative Commons License

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 International License.

This work is the intellectual property of Naughty Netherworld Press/Poetry of the Netherworld.

Reblogging is acceptable on platforms that allow it. LBRY’s reblog function is called repost, which makes things confusing since reposting is considered a no-no on most platforms. It’s fine to share the post using the repost function on LBRY. It is not okay to copy-paste the material into a new post.

Sharing a link to the post is acceptable.

Quoting portions of the post for educational or review purposes is acceptable if proper credit is given.

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A Response

 

Image from Mindlovemisery's Sunday Writing Prompt

you ask, how are you coping?

and I say, well, hell

do you want me to be honest with you?

truth is, most people don't want the truth

they want to hear I'm doing fine

then they can go about their day

it's all a load of crap, you know

a lot of people aren't fine

but nobody really cares

that's why I never play along

with those games where you're supposed to repost

the well-meaning words claiming that someone's always there to care

but how am I supposed to believe that's true

when no-one ever even "likes" what I do?

these people on social media who cry the blues

whenever their post gets less than a hundred likes

make me laugh because mine don't even get one

fuck 'em all, I don't care anyway

so excuse me for being cynical

but I don't think that those of you posting that you care so much

really do in anything more than a vaguely caring for humanity sort of way

you really don't know me anyway

you ask me how are you coping?

the answer is, not well

but did you ask the welfare agencies for help?

you know...

the ones that really don't give a flying fuck about your welfare?

best you should die and decrease the surplus population

but we can't say that out loud

so let's post some more platitudes

about how someone's always there and always cares

except nobody really is

you ask me how I'm coping

now you know

I'm f.i.n.e.

fucked up

insecure

not okay

exhausted

I'm about done

just want to call it quits

but there's still a long road ahead

dragging the corpse of my sense of adventure

along on my aching back

~cie~

https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2020/11/15/sunday-writing-prompt-15th-november-coping/

https://www.writersdigest.com/write-better-poetry/2020-november-pad-chapbook-challenge-day-16

Write a response poem

I wrote a response to the Sunday Writing Prompt

This poem was posted to these places:

http://poetryofthenetherworld.blogspot.com

https://lbry.tv/@poetryofthenetherworld:9

The Icky, Sticky, Nit-Picky Legalese If You Please (Or Don't Please)

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This work is the intellectual property of Naughty Netherworld Press/Poetry of the Netherworld.

Reblogging is acceptable on platforms that allow it. LBRY’s reblog function is called repost, which makes things confusing since reposting is considered a no-no on most platforms. It’s fine to share the post using the repost function on LBRY. It is not okay to copy-paste the material into a new post.

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Quoting portions of the post for educational or review purposes is acceptable if proper credit is given.

Want more cynical free verse?

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Share my mood on LBRY.

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LBRY is a decentralized content marketplace. I price the PDF versions of my work at approximately half of the Kindle price because I receive the entire amount rather than a royalty percentage.

Most of my work is free. A tip as small as 5 LBC (approximately $0.15) really helps, and it all goes to me.

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Our Last Stand

 

Free use image by Peter H on Pixabay

https://pixabay.com/photos/gang-floor-pforphoto-house-4058017/

When I was young, I believed that my dreams would come true eventually if I just believed hard enough. I believed that when I wished on a star that fairies or angels would work to make my wishes come true.

I believed that if I worked hard, I would be accepted into the Magical World of Shiny Happy People that lay beyond the Wall of Despair.

Then my body failed me.

My son and I moved away from the city to a town far from anywhere.

My Big Bright Dreams are dead and gone, but I believed that perhaps a few people would pay a few dollars to read my little stories.

My money is gone.

I had one last chance

to turn defeat to triumph

I failed our last stand

there is nothing behind the wall

except a space where the wind whistles

 

144 words

Prompts used:

D’Verse Poets: Write a piece of prose incorporating the given verse.

https://dversepoets.com/2020/11/09/of-houses-walls-and-whistling-winds/

The verse is:

“there is nothing behind the wall

except a space where the wind whistles”

from “Drawings By Children” by Lisel Mueller

What I wrote is a non-standard Haibun. For those who don’t know, a Haibun is a piece of prose followed by a Haiku. Mine is non-standard because I placed the two lines above at the end of the Haibun. I originally had them at the beginning of the piece, but I thought they worked better following the Senryu.

If this form goes utterly against the prompt, the hosts of the hop can feel free to remove my link. I won’t take it personally. I’m too damn tired.

What I wrote is not fiction. It is the Reader’s Digest Condensed Soup version of an entirely autobiographical situation. I would not recommend eating too much of this soup. It will give you heartburn and a bellyache.

The November PAD Chapbook Challenge prompt for today was to write an “our blank” poem. The title of the Haibun is “Our Last Stand,” and those words also appear in the Senryu portion following the prose.

https://www.writersdigest.com/write-better-poetry/2020-november-pad-chapbook-challenge-day-9

The word of the day is Triumph, which also appears in the Senryu. I have to say that I feel anything but triumphant in this moment. In fact, I feel like I’m going to hurl.

https://wordofthedaychallenge.wordpress.com/2020/11/09/triumph/

This poem was posted to these places:

http://poetryofthenetherworld.blogspot.com

https://lbry.tv/@poetryofthenetherworld:9

LBRY is a decentralized content marketplace. I price the PDF versions of my work at approximately half of the Kindle price because I receive the entire amount rather than a royalty percentage.

You can get a free LBRY account through this link. You can earn LBC for viewing content on LBRY as well as from selling your content.

https://lbry.tv/$/invite/@naughtynetherworldpress:d

 

The Icky, Sticky, Nit-Picky Legalese If You Please (Or Don't Please)

Creative Commons License

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 International License.

This work is the intellectual property of Naughty Netherworld Press/Poetry of the Netherworld.

Reblogging is acceptable on platforms that allow it. LBRY’s reblog function is called repost, which makes things confusing since reposting is considered a no-no on most platforms. It’s fine to share the post using the repost function on LBRY. It is not okay to copy-paste the material into a new post.

Sharing a link to the post is acceptable.

Quoting portions of the post for educational or review purposes is acceptable if proper credit is given.

 

Did you know that just a buck a month will really help support a disabled creative spirit? 

 

Check out my Patreon.

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Carpe Diem Tan Renga Wednesday: Such a Cold Night

Image by Robson Machado from Pixabay

lying down

with quilts over the head

such a cold night

I spent many nights like this

in a trailer with no heat

~cie~

notes

The Hokku stanza was written by Matsuo Basho (1644 - 1694). The Ageku stanza was written by me. It is autobiographical.

Carpe Diem Haiku: Senryu: Lost at Birth

Image by Michael Gaida from Pixabay

born to a hard life

a world of trouble and strife

you deserved better

~nobody~

notes from nobody

Written for my son. I was not able to give him the childhood he deserved because of my mental health issues. Now we live together in poverty trying to support each other as best we can. If there are angels, I believe he is one.

Sandcastle Creations

Image by Marjon Besteman-Horn from Pixabay

I remember playing in the sandbox as a child

Hands digging into warm orange-golden grains

My sandcastles were, in reality

Nothing but cloddish bucket shapes

But, languishing in my imagination

I saw them as wondrous perpendicular spires

Climbing up and up to dizzy heights

Where a virtuous knight played out his heroic role

In the theatre of my mind

I couldn’t have imagined then

How pedestrian my life would become

No longer able to earn a stable income

I sit before the computer’s typewriter keyboard

Praying that the laconic moments

Will be few and far between

As I attempt to form a story

Of a dashing but broken hero

Through the curtains I see shadows of branches

~Cie~

Notes:

I chose the picture because from the back, at any rate, this is very much what I looked like as a child. There is no way I could have known what would become of me or my life. If that little girl had known what kind of worthless and hideously ugly creature she would become, she wouldn't have wanted to live.

I didn't stay cute for long. Even around six years old, it was becoming apparent that I had a terrible overbite. Two years of braces and that dreadful Martian headgear left me with a crossbite, which doesn't play a part in my appearance, but it is uncomfortable. It also left me with dead nerves in a couple of my front teeth and it couldn't close the gaps between my teeth. I ended up having to get an abscess removed, root canals, and caps on my six top front teeth to hide the remaining gaps and the fact that my left front tooth and left incisor are black from the nerve damage.

Dental veneers can hide how ugly my top front teeth are, but nothing can hide how ugly my face is as a whole, unfortunately. I am not at all a good-looking person, and in a world that is biassed towards a certain type of beauty, it has hurt me very much to be as ugly as I am.