“Unmasking Beauty: What Your Reflection Really Says About You”
Have you ever found yourself questioning your own reflection, grappling with the nagging doubt of whether you’re more “beauty” or more “beast”? If so, trust me, you’re not alone in this wild world where self-image often collides with harsh realities—like that time a group of kids made gagging gestures in your direction. Oof! In this hilariously chaotic ode to insecurity, our protagonist—a rather unique vehicle with a flair for the metallic and the futuristic—wrestles with the persistent fear that everyone’s whispering mean comments about how hideous they truly are. Is it paranoia or is there some truth bubbling beneath the surface? Join me as we dive into a whirlwind of angst, self-reflection, and just a sprinkle of self-deprecating humor, all while asking: Do we ever really know how ugly we are… or perhaps more importantly, how fabulous we can be, even if we look like a Transformer after a rough night? Buckle up, because it’s gonna be a bumpy ride! LEARN MORESo this is kind of awkward but it’s been on my mind lately and I know it’s probably nothing but I’ve gotta ask. And be honest, because I need someone I can count on to tell the truth. Okay, so…do you think I look ugly?
Ugh, this is so embarrassing! I’ve just been getting this vibe recently that everyone is making fun of me behind my back. Like they’re always whispering to each other about how ugly I am. Maybe I’m being totally paranoid, but sometimes I’ll pull up at a stop sign and notice people staring at me and laughing, and I could swear they’re saying mean things about me under their breath. Is that insane?

I’m probably overthinking it, but last week I drove by a school and these kids were making the puke gesture and pointing at me. I just pretended not to notice, but honestly, it shook me to my clunky, stainless-steel core. I always assumed kids thought I was cool because I’m metallic and futuristic and everything, but apparently not, because why would they make that gesture unless I actually made them want to puke?
Am I really that hideous? You’d tell me if I was, right?
I’m really starting to wonder, because people have walked past me on the sidewalk and called me things like a nasty old corrugated roof on wheels. And then yesterday this guy tapped his girlfriend on the shoulder, turned in my direction, and said, “Looks like a Transformer took a shit.” I know he was talking about me because the only other car on the road was a cute little Mini Cooper, and they don’t look like any kind of shit, never mind a Transformer’s shit.
This may sound weird, but sometimes when I’m driving down the street, I’ll roll past a storefront, see my reflection in its window, and think, “Hey, I look pretty sleek.” That’s what happens on a good day. More and more, though, when I catch a glimpse of my super awkward body all I can think about is that maybe I’m not sleek or beautiful at all. Maybe I actually look stupid as fuck.
On the one hand, I know that’s just a negative voice in my head. But on the other, a guy who saw me in a parking lot this morning didn’t even bother to lower his voice when he said I looked like a dishwasher fucked a Robocop.
By the way, have you noticed that literally no other cars look like me? None. They’re all curvy and inviting and then there’s me. My dashboard is made of fake marble, for Christ’s sake. I used to tell myself it made me unique and that was a good thing, but it isn’t, is it? It’s just really fucking tacky. And why is my rear door heavy enough to chop people’s hands off? Like WTF? Why? I hate it. I’m disgusting and I should just die.
Seriously, I’m a rusty, busted-
ass trapezoid that no one would find attractive unless they were blind or immature or desperate. Who else would drive me but some desperate pig with terrible taste who wears sneakers with his suits and blogs about crypto and only wants to take me to strip clubs?
Screw it. I’m so sick of this fucking piece of shit life. The next time I’m in full self-driving mode, I’m going to speed down the highway and crash into everything I see. If I’m going down, I’m taking all the cruel, name-calling assholes with me.














