I am not beautiful--and in so being, allow folks to have something to compare to. And therein lies my beauty.

You. Not you particularly, but you in general. That's what. There are entire cultures with no conception of beauty. Like the Hopis have no word for war or violence, these people have no word for beautiful or ugly.

Our culture, our society is what makes people beautiful. There was an awesome Twilight Zone episode about this. The cliche is that beauty is in the eye of the beholder, fine, whatever, but the concept of beauty is in the collective mind of the society. Just like the invented language in 1984 has no way to express original thought contrary to the regime, our language has a way to express and evaluate beauty.

I read through all these characteristics that people wrote, and the reasons those are all attractive is because someone was attracted to the bearer of those characteristics. Some something in our environment attracts us to those qualities. The concept of beauty is not a priori.

First time I didn't want to run. First time I'd ever been kicked by a lamb. Easiest rope I ever chased.

You could've half-become a martyr. A fuel stop, at best. You fucking raisin. What am I saying? You pillow, you cup of yogurt in the wee hours, you sunrise, you Cliffs of Dover, you torch carrying, gutless, drowning, percussive, perfectly cursed 8 ball. And sure, I'm no pedal break but I can make you proud of something, damn you.

Was it a wince? Or a grin? Was it both? When did you learn we weren't dancing, we were fencing? That one of us could lose? But still, your teeth. I'd try to stand, but they make me feel so small. So I fell.

And that's what made me finally remember. I'm beautiful for the things I can notice. Because beauty is as simple and as strong as a reflection, right? It's contagious, right? Choose one. Because I can only drop one shoe, babe.

Beauty is not a blessing in disguise, or a blessing, or a disguise. You can't give it, or take it, or even lose it really, you can only forget about it. The three worst things you can possibly give a person are an idea, a label, and an addiction. You are all three of those things. And as well as that, you are beautiful. But you haven't given yourself to me at all.


(I


...


guess


...


I'm


......

.......grateful?)

But also waiting?

but the biggest secret of all is....

I don't CARE if you're asleep right now. I don't CARE if you can share this sky here, or that star there, or some black moon night with me.

Even glaciers move on...

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