Beauty is culminated emotion, happening in one spot at one time, one instant. Converging just so, just right--all pointed towards that individual stir.
But repeatable and predictable. It combines the elements of emotional chaos with certainty. Love is when certain familiar faces, sounds, words, and images are sure to elicit the sense of beauty.

She appeared almost like an angel out of this bloated mass.

A blushing rush of emotion,
ripples envelope sense
the ground weakens
shocking desire, furious love
paralyzed to respond
actions happen but the mind remains
fixated on the memory of that moment
sidling onward away from fear.

This is just a test of comments.

I have done absolutely nothing the last two years to participate in this terrible hoilday shopping season. I've purchased zero gifts and encouraged reception of zero. Last year I gave away my one gift--a child-wrought Old Navy Fleece, then promptly purchased a different colored one of my own.

I can't wait for my transformation into 50-year-old dead nihilist to be complete.

To quit smoking, the industry addicts you to nicotine gum. The theory, which worked for me, is that it's far easier to quit the gum than to quit the smokes. I quit the gum in one week and never looked back. The same theory applies to people.

One made me forget the other, who had thoroughly fucked my mind up. In the process I lost the only important one and now am back to square one. Actually square minus one. In the most basic element, even pre-existence, she is there, culling the spirit. Therefore my spirit now must be culled, finalized. Improvement is over. There are only now separate manifestations, situations. The difference between people and addictions minutely expresses itself in twinkling eyes and sartorial smiles.

--

He goes along with whatever happens around him. Too afraid to offend, to step on toes or venture forth boldly, on his own. He assumes the role of the agent, like a suburban kid talking black around his cool black friends--he worries like the insecure one, jokes like the joker and is moody like the mercurial.

I will no longer begin sentences with, "From now on." From this point forward.

Most people who make such statements do so habitually. The fact is these people are constantly having revelations and making rules for themselves. None of them stick and they go through life in a perpetual state of supposed improvement.

This compares directly to the theory of the meaning of life being a series of breakthroughs or revelations followed by change and improvement. I wrote specifically about a hypothetical person who is paralyzed from the waist down and thanks fate or another entity/idea for giving their life purpose: to get ramps everywhere. This is similar to the goal-setting theory, although the goal-setters embroider their posture with far less sentiment. They just set goals and "move on" as they say. Move toward what I ask? More goals forever until death?