I confess, on the outside I do look distinguished -- silver at the temples, close-cropped brindled beard, regular features -- but don't hold that against me.

My charisma notwithstanding, I'm likeable because I genuinely like people. It can be annoying, but it's not really ugly.

On the other hand, I'm ugly where it counts: Inside.

My lungs are inflamed, my guts are a mess, and (is that a teratoma?) I'm doubtless full of unrecognized parasites and foul growths. I'm naught but a skin-bag of humours and tissues, oozing and vile.

Will you accept me for the person I truly am?