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On The Topic Of: Beauty
Christoper Huang
Beauty is an idea that has dominated the human mind since its conception. From the Greek Tragedy to the Cosmopolitan, beauty’s overwhelming authority over the human psyche has been the source to attract a deep inner craving within ourselves. Its contents have been debated time over time, whether it is an aspect of the soul brought by personality and virtue, or merely a trick of the brain as an aspect of science. Whichever argument you deem correct is of your belief, but there is no denying that beauty is important to our lives. Beauty is not a social standard, nor is it subject to trend. It is not merely the particular way a person’s face is structured, the silhouette of a body, or the way a person dresses. Neither is it perfection in behavior or morality, but something much more simple.
Beauty is the embodiment of happiness; nothing more, nothing less. It transcends all things: rationality, morality, physical appearance, personal preference. Anything you can think of. For beauty to be genuine, it must give a sense of ephemeral gratification, not just a whiff of appeasement. For me, to say that a person is beautiful merely on their physical appearance is superficial. Just because someone is physically attractive does not mean that they are beautiful, because although it may cause fleeting pleasure, it alone does not emit happiness. To say that a person is beautiful because of their devoutness or perfection of character is naive since strength in belief does not guarantee fulfillment and limits the self, and perfection renders everything inferior to anything below it, inhibiting happiness.
To me, beauty can be found within a person’s idiosyncrasies; the little things. The tiniest imperfections that make a person special and that are only shared with you, like a secret. Maybe it’s how a person sings with all their heart aloud even though they know it sounds terrible. Maybe it's their idealistic philosophies and optimism about the future. Or their radiance of their happiness to others. A person that provides support, intimacy, and fulfillment toward your endeavors. Beauty is more than just a trait. Beauty is a sense of hope that no other entity can prescribe. Your ideal of happiness.
It is because of this that beauty can be dangerous. Since it is the embodiment of happiness and hope, the inability to grasp desired beauty is utterly devastating. To be unable to obtain such subject of beauty is to be denied happiness and hope. Whether it is a subject of unrequited love, or dissatisfaction with the self, happiness will seem impossible to achieve and acquire. Whenever something that is beautiful is denied to you, it does not simply lose its beauty and disappear, but clutches to the heart and imprints its mark as a scar, pulsing, pushing, and burning it until you’ve reached the opiate of lost consciousness.
Beauty is the embodiment of happiness; nothing more, nothing less. It transcends all things: rationality, morality, physical appearance, personal preference. Anything you can think of. For beauty to be genuine, it must give a sense of ephemeral gratification, not just a whiff of appeasement. For me, to say that a person is beautiful merely on their physical appearance is superficial. Just because someone is physically attractive does not mean that they are beautiful, because although it may cause fleeting pleasure, it alone does not emit happiness. To say that a person is beautiful because of their devoutness or perfection of character is naive since strength in belief does not guarantee fulfillment and limits the self, and perfection renders everything inferior to anything below it, inhibiting happiness.
To me, beauty can be found within a person’s idiosyncrasies; the little things. The tiniest imperfections that make a person special and that are only shared with you, like a secret. Maybe it’s how a person sings with all their heart aloud even though they know it sounds terrible. Maybe it's their idealistic philosophies and optimism about the future. Or their radiance of their happiness to others. A person that provides support, intimacy, and fulfillment toward your endeavors. Beauty is more than just a trait. Beauty is a sense of hope that no other entity can prescribe. Your ideal of happiness.
It is because of this that beauty can be dangerous. Since it is the embodiment of happiness and hope, the inability to grasp desired beauty is utterly devastating. To be unable to obtain such subject of beauty is to be denied happiness and hope. Whether it is a subject of unrequited love, or dissatisfaction with the self, happiness will seem impossible to achieve and acquire. Whenever something that is beautiful is denied to you, it does not simply lose its beauty and disappear, but clutches to the heart and imprints its mark as a scar, pulsing, pushing, and burning it until you’ve reached the opiate of lost consciousness.
The Greatest Medication
Nyasi Pickney-Williams
Your love was a placebo
Cotton mouths tell dream like stories of a fancy house with a garden that blooms year round.
I guess we reaped what we sowed we could never get our plants to grow and harvest is over now.
To this day I still find open wounds scars and bruises that I can't remove no matter what salve I use I can't seem to erase you.
Sadistic and masochistic in our ways inflicting pain to try keep the other to stay but push them away the most confusing and messed/fucked up game.
Our heads collided every time, thoughts of us forever fertile impregnated in my mind.
You will always be my first…love.
I think about you in the summer time watching the earth give birth to new life you were my whole darkness.
The moon in the night sky we we where a flame…now we're nothing but ashes… to ashes dust to dust.
The flowers grow in full bloom near the Tombstone labeled us.
Cotton mouths tell dream like stories of a fancy house with a garden that blooms year round.
I guess we reaped what we sowed we could never get our plants to grow and harvest is over now.
To this day I still find open wounds scars and bruises that I can't remove no matter what salve I use I can't seem to erase you.
Sadistic and masochistic in our ways inflicting pain to try keep the other to stay but push them away the most confusing and messed/fucked up game.
Our heads collided every time, thoughts of us forever fertile impregnated in my mind.
You will always be my first…love.
I think about you in the summer time watching the earth give birth to new life you were my whole darkness.
The moon in the night sky we we where a flame…now we're nothing but ashes… to ashes dust to dust.
The flowers grow in full bloom near the Tombstone labeled us.