a series of small victories

We work too hard. We try too hard. Don’t try. Don’t work. It’s there. It’s been looking right at us, aching to kick out of the closed womb. There’s been too much direction. It’s all free, we needn’t be told. Classes? Classes are for asses.

There is no such thing as beauty, especially in the human face… what we call the physiognomy. It’s all a mathematical and imagined alignment of features. Like, if the nose doesn’t stick out too much, the sides are in fashion, if the earlobes aren’t too large, if the hair is long… It’s kind of a mirage of generalization. People think of certain faces as beautiful, but, truly, in the final measure, they are not. It’s a mathematical equation of zero. “True beauty” comes, of course, of character. Not through how the eyebrows are shaped.

Life’s as kind as you let it be.

nevver:

nedhepburn:

drink from the well of your self and begin again.