You will sense the pressure mounting before it becomes apparent. You will know a discomfort, an unknown, a disruption of the harmony of every cell's established place. It will become a festering obsession; the giant flaw you are sure everyone will be distracted by. How big will this be? When will it get here? A thoughtless moment finds you in front of a mirror, hastening this thorn's trajectory. You begin to squeeze.
In one brief, misled impulse, you expedited the natural process of things; thereby delaying it's healing. You will feel shame for your impatience. And your face is now the Poster Child for Tribal Scarification.
That is what I have heard anyways. Which makes this a good time to re-post a favorite piece,
Some Stories Need Time Before They Can Be Told.