erdongxiansgeng

What do I care about beauty? It is not beauty that comforts me in the middle of the night. It is not beauty that looks back at me from the mirror every morning. I do not glimpse anything of aesthetic value in that pale reflection. I see: lines ready to form, hair waiting to fall, nose proudly proclaiming heritage. There is: no beautiful mess, no meaningful mistake. There is: only this jumble, this tired truth. Beauty lurks around every corner. It taunts me from magazines and prints itself on the inside of my eyelids. It frames itself on walls and contains itself on computer screens. Beauty: this charming snake that wh