Beauty.

I have a thing for beauty. I’ll sacrifice much for beauty. I saw this photo on tumblr one time, of a wolf and little child in snow-covered woods, surrounded by cherry blossoms. Beauty.

I saw a sentence on a blog, quoted from a book source. I immediately brought the book. Beauty.

I heard a tone in a woman’s voice as she softly spoke to a child about how to solve a math problem. Beauty. I married the woman.

I saw a poem from the tv show penny dreadful, and listened to the poem recited about 55 times in 2 hours. Beauty.

I think that in the sum total of life, we are all already dead (thanks Axe Capital). And beauty is something that requires a certain isolated state, like a woman who stands out, unobtrusively, in a room of beautiful people. It requires essence, like curves in the night. It requires a certain rhythm, like a perfect verse over a tight beat. And beauty must be grasped in this short existentially misunderstood existence.

Beauty…it’s an understated, but universally understood, common language. Few things can steal, kill, destroy, love, honor, cherish, or sacrifice the way that true beauty can.