Angelina Jolie took a break from rescuing unfortunate children and defending the world from injustice today in order to have her portrait done in her true form. Clad in a casual embellished floor-length strapless gown, Ms. Jolie clearly felt at ease while sitting for us at Sneer Studio. Her skull horns curve gracefully and her lips billow in the supernatural breeze that surrounds her at all times. She has lately been busying herself with family life, feeding from the souls of the children she has clustered around her, and brandishing a fiery sword at former partner, Brad Pitt, while shrieking her banshee wail.

Angelina Jolie

We have a lot of fears. Some make sense; others, not so much. This latter type will be featured once monthly until we run out of material, at which point, we might begin accepting the fears of our readers. 

FACE IT

Forever, as far back as I can remember, maybe as soon as I was self aware enough to realize that I have a reflection in the mirror, I have had this notion that how we look can change with our thoughts. Like expressing emotions, only a lot more than that. After a few years, my notion became more of a crackpot theory as I started to think that maybe our faces are a projection of our inner thoughts to the point that if we just concentrated, we would be unrecognizable even to people who know us very well. I thought this would be very handy if I ever needed to disguise myself and secretly worked towards achieving this skill, this skill that probably can’t actually exist but I’m never going to get all that time back, am I!

One of the negative side effects of getting myself to believe in this idea is that, as a result, I have never been comfortable with the idea of sleeping near anyone. At slumber parties, I would stay up the entire night not for fear of pranks, but because I didn’t want anyone to see me being asleep. At home, I wanted a locked door to my bedroom so that the only things creeping in to watch me sleep were monsters and Mirror Amanda. I can’t snooze in cars, and to sleep on public transit is laughable in that nervous, unfunny laugh kind of way. Even living with boyfriends, I will usually face away from them, sleep with my head covered up with a blanket or pillow, have my face buried in my arms, or at the very least, feel this sense of horror when I wake up to find that my face was visible.

What do I think will happen when I’m asleep? Do I think I’m actually a monster? Do I think that my face will become a blank, expressionless, actual mask? I really don’t know! I refuse to think about it any more than this.

I’m a fairly tense person on even the calmest sorts of days. Ever since I was very small, I have fretted over so many inconsequential things. Several years ago, I began getting anxiety attacks (and one or two panic attacks, which I consider separate, worse things). Why is this? What is to blame? Could it be a complicated matter of brain chemicals malfunctioning? Or maybe it is a very simple matter. Is it the state of the world? Do I actually care that much? Is it too much coffee? No, I will never blame coffee for anything! Maybe it is just the act of living and aging and getting older and turning to dust oh god how is anyone ever able to relax?! Should I see a doctor? Probably, but I don’t have time for that! I’ll see the doctor AFTER I’M DEAD!!

Anyway, one day I was feeling pretty anxious and went to Chris for some sympathy. Ha ha, no, I was not that delusional. I only kid you. I simply happened to be speaking to him at the time, and he did that thing he does so well: make it clear that he was low-level annoyed that I was not entertaining enough because I was experiencing a rough day. BFFs.

Click the image to see me being ON EDGE up close and pixelatedly.

Who, I ask you!