Tuesday, April 22, 2014


There’s only two kinds things in this world: the beautiful, and the not so beautiful. I’m going to lie, and tell you it’s that simple.

What is beauty, anyway?

I think it’s deeper than flowers and butterflies. Beauty is old home movies about people you almost forgot, beauty is the way the light catches their hair in the in the summer sunset as if in slow motion, beauty is an old wooden table, scratched and dented in such distinct ways but certainly not begging for attention, beauty is flipping through your yearbook’s pages, unsure of whether or not you should cry,

Beauty is the story we call life.

And yet it goes unnoticed, day after day. We cast it out, unwilling to accept chaotic perfection in comparison to our own dreams of harmony, the very dreams inspired by beauty itself. Beauty doesn’t ask for any credit. It simply smiles at our fortune, unaware of the war it’s causing. A villain is nothing without a hero.

Beautiful things are flawed to the point of perfection.

Life then, is beautiful.

1 comment:

  1. Short, sweet and thoughtful. This made me feel alive today, thank you.


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