Friday, September 30, 2016


  I want to write today about beauty. I spent a lot of my life not being a very great or fantastic human being in any way. For a lot of reasons, I never wanted to be much of anything. I spent a lot of time rejecting beauty, at least by my own definition of it. I saw all of these smart and wonderful people, I saw all of these exceptional and talented people...and I didn’t want to be one of them. I wanted to think that I could escape beauty, and it’s unbelievable allure on our everyday lives. I thought imperfection would make me feel better, make me feel more distanced from the beautiful people. Like I’d won by escaping their influence. Make me feel like I was more connected to the rest of the world. The people that gave me everything I ever had, the only things ever worth having; they were not conventionally beautiful. And in my extremely flawed pattern of thinking, I believed we were just something else outside of beauty.
  However, as I’ve grown older, I’ve come to realize these people in my life were the very definition of beauty. I practically want to cry I feel so stupid for not noticing it sooner. Beautiful people are not perfect people. They are fundamentally flawed, they are the face of every day life, they are the people who make superficial beauty obsolete. And the most disturbing part of all is that they prove this point again and again every single day. They are the ones you want to hold so tightly, a grenade between you two wouldn’t pull you apart. I have always lived to treat my friends as the most important thing to me, but I never understood that they were the most valuable thing. Every flaw, every misstep, every doesn’t do a damn thing to diminish their beauty. In all of our own respective pits, we become more beautiful than we ever stood a chance of being if we looked at what is considered conventional beauty. I appreciate that now more than I ever have before, and I will fight to the death for the idea of it. I love you all.