you are not beautiful

The world has gone blind and no one understands what beauty is anymore. There is only me, and so i must educate.

I could watch that for hours, methinks, and i’ve been watching it over and over here in between staring at the walls and wolfing out. It’s perfect and beautiful, beautiful in the proper sense, in the aesthetic way, and i’ve become an unashamed aesthete, and i likely always was. It makes me weep, this dance, this song, their movement so perfect, so fluid, like everything that ever was or has yet to be, and there’s this power, rising, rising, rising, heard in violin strings, the ways they cry, the ways they teeter back and forth and saw through you, the way they collide and recombine to take you from where you sit to where you will one day be, and their bodies, her legs, her expression, because surely the show is all her, and it’s not simply that she’s a beautiful woman, because that’s obvious, obtuse, too narrow, but that she is a goddess, a form of precision and perfection, and the way she moves is poetry, it’s songwriting at it’s most powerful, it’s words at their most integral, it’s you and me and all that’s in between, and i could weep, are you weeping, you should weep, and you should watch it on fullscreen, dim the lights, turn the sound so loud you no longer hear your heart beating, your lungs breathing, because when it hits, the moment, this singularity where all comes together, when your heart collapses and becomes a part of mine, right around that 3:00 mark, you should weep, because that is what perfection is, that face, her expression, and you should climb onto your roof and transform, become new and whole, become a part of me and I, a part of all that is and will be, because there’s a wholeness in there if you have the right eyes, if you’ve the heart to see true poetry and true language because there is no language, no poetry, no sound quite as glorious, quite as permanent, as eternal as the songs of the body, of the female form in all its eloquence, and don’t close your eyes, never close them, because if you breathe too long than the moment’s gone and perfection is a thing of instants and moments and never a flicker longer, because she’s perfect here, beautiful, unforgettable, but, when the curtain closes, when time starts again, when the dream ends, she’s just another person.

To shift gears completely, i want to read this book by Grace Krilanovich solely because of this introduction by Steve Erickson, who, if you know me, you know is my hero and the world’s greatest novelist. Or at least america’s.

Shift once more, the ravishing Pela Via has been interviewed by the glorious Craig Wallwork at his site which can be found if’n you click his name. Both writers, both great, and links to their stories may be found at their respective websites.

Wolfing out tonight. Oh, new It’s Always Sunny, too. Musn’t forget.

Go forth, see beauty and live gorgeously. I demand it.

2 thoughts on “you are not beautiful

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