Of Painted Faces

  BEAUTY is a delicate thing and has many different ways that it can be exposed to the world. There is natural beauty, where all of a person is pure and beautiful and people love desperately to be around them. Then of course there is outward and inward beauty. They are in their own pretty self-explanatory. There is a beauty though that no living being can see. It is hidden behind all the walls of our hearts guarded by our thoughts and our feeling, we are afraid to expose this to the world and yet we no not that it exists within us. Beauty is hard to understand, each has their own definition of beauty and none is right and none is wrong. Beauty is everything, it is the waking of the body and the crying of the soul. Beauty is haunting and sometimes vain, beauty is calm and sometimes she is boastful and angry.
  EACH and every human upon this earth tries to create beauty in his work or his life or himself. Beauty cannot be created, no one can manufacture beauty and sell it to the world. If you try, and many have, it will grow ugly and angry. Still they try and they become envious and jealous and they believe that they are better in life than any other before or after them.
  WHO is it that then decides our worth and beauty? Is it us, for certainly it would appear the obvious option. Upon further observation of the human nature you would most likely come to realize that the obvious option is in fact ridiculous and absurd. For we rely solely and often to heavily on what others perceive of our being. We are for the most part absurdly attached to other men’s opinions of what life should be lived as. Yet we in our own selves choose to listen to the voices of those who humiliate our thoughts. It is us who decide to change for what they want. So my question is if you change for them will you change for me and again for another? Will you continue a never ending cycle of change so to please another person? Then who do you decide is good enough for you to stay the same because you cannot please the world. Each of us change for a person and each of cause another person’s change. In the end we are all utterly miserable and restless. We do not know ourselves so when a person calls you do not answer because you cannot remember if you are still that person. We become distanced from the world that we maybe, long before we could remember, felt so securely close to.
DO we become worthless then? Who decides how long it takes for our worth to diminish and for us to become nothing? Are we born into this world with nothing. Do we have to decide and work toward becoming worth something? What if we are born worthless into worthlessness? How do you rise yourself above your identity, or do you give it up? Is it those people who bend and break, twist and turn to become something that they believe will make them worth more than nothing. Who though claims a child worthless and even greater who claims a worthless child?
WORTH is not wealth though. Worth is feeling and love and having a home. Worth means more than something skin deep or skin tight. Worth is not measured by those who have five homes and four resorts. Worth is measured rather by brains and knowledge, by a letter written in love or life. Worth is not giving up, it is rising above. Worth is a beautiful thing when you are looking at it right side up.
  Beauty is not money. Beauty is innocent and lovely. It is not soft and is not hard, it is not tall or short. It can hold it’s own in a fight and knows when to stop and walk away. Beauty is not flawless, it is not in the legs or the arms it is not in just the face. It is in the soul and the heart. You can see it peeking out of the eyes of children. Beauty is character, but it is many thing more then that and many thing in between that as well. Beauty has no limit for it is only in the eye of the beholder. I have no right to tell you what beauty is and is not, I will simply tell you what I believe to see in my eye.
  IT is a funny thing, the imagination, it can see beyond what we could ever find. It can be taken away or given up. It can be pushed into the corner of our mind where it can no longer find it’s light. Imagination causes us to dream of perfection, of beauty, of peace. Through imagination we see a better world. But an imagination is just that, a dream or a wish or a thought of the mind to a world that is uniquely perfect. For each has his own vision of perfection and not one of us can fathom the depths or the truths that lie behind their hardcover. Of course they are not for us to be seen, other peoples dreams are not for us to fathom or wonder about unless they tell us of their imaginings. Well where was I…of course! Imagination is not reality and so there is little chance that your dreams will ever become true. Others have dreams and what right do you or I have to say that our dreams are better than theirs. We have none if you have guessed right. Imagination is not to be trifled with. We are strong people and we are often complied by forces beyond our knowledge to act upon our thoughts. Or at least I have been told that they are forces beyond our knowledge. I am not certain and neither is anyone person alive.
  May I ask you, and please do not be offended, what do you fight for? They say a man fights for what is his, but then if we each have our own belongings why do you fight us for them. They are not yours to fight for or to want. So then what do we fight for? Do we fight in pursuit of something that we believe will make us happier and better than any other person on earth? Or is it perhaps we fight to prove our worth, to show someone, to show them that we in fact are worth something more then what they have tagged us. What of those who do not fight then? Are they worthless, or useless, or weak? Are they not good enough for us because we fight? But again what do you fight for? What if you didn’t even know what you for or why you were fighting to begin with. What if you were just fighting because you saw your father fight or your mother or brother, and because you grew up watching them fight does it become second nature? What if we don’t know who we fight, do we fight ourselves or our enemies or are we our own enemies? Then it would seem we would never win.
  You see and I must admit that I at first did not, but all these things beauty, worth, imagination, fighting, they all tie into each other. Because in each there is beauty and each there is a fighting spirit. In each there is imagination and in each there is worth. Now I have not made you better understand any of these and that was not what I wanted anyway. What I wanted was to share my opinion on this world with you. With you a stranger or a friend or someone who, like me, has an opinion that is worth more than buildings and clothing and countries. I hope that you see this when I write and you do not tire of my minds working or wondering. You do not find me stupid or rash for I wish to none of those. I wish simply to be what I am whether is worthy and beautiful or not. For it is not what you believe that makes me who I am and it is not what I believe that makes you who you are. It is simply what we believe together or apart that teaches us and shows us who we can chose to be and from there the journey is yours to begin.
  They say beauty is in the eye of the beholder, they say imagination is the key to a brighter future, they say worth is measured no by wealth but by character and they say a man fights to stay in the game. I believe that these that they say are true.