dawn

At the end of the world, the end of your personal world, you should have some relationship with beauty.

If you were going to die today, and if you thought back and scanned across your entire life, the moments you linger on are probably beautiful.

If the pineal gland releases a chemical, and if you get to experience a dream like no other dream you’ve experienced before,

I’d imagine it would be about beauty.

I never saw any sense in being afraid of the word. Associate it with the feminine if you must, the word remains the same.

It takes all forms.

All languages and senses.

If death is outside your door, beauty is what keeps your hand from opening it.

It’s the opposite of the traps and the pitfalls. It exists high above the realms of opinion.

It has nothing to do with a group.

Or an Ego.

Or an agenda…

I hope it keeps you alive.

I hope it makes you feel like this is all an incredible gift, like something You’re not Even Worthy of.

Hope it makes you feel lucky.

Beauty is real.

All that horrible shit is real too, but beauty is better than all of it. And you can find it. And It might exist in unexpected places.

I flinched.

I always flinch.

I hope beauty brings me back.

I’m still here, so clearly it did .

I think beauty and fate are lovers. I think they hold hands and really enjoy each other’s company.I think they really cherish each other’s conversations..i Think they love each other, in a very real way.

I’d rather notice that.

Rather be about that.

Bout it bout it..

Pretty faggy concepts eh?

Taking about such tender parts?

Ain’t scared.

Don’t bother my ass none..