Beautiful Beautiful

Giggling in the Rain

sb — Sun, 24 May 2009 07:46:34 +0000

BEAUTIFUL BEAUTIFUL are giggles. The giggles of nerves, silliness, or warm emotion come unexpected and often tickle us when we most need it.
(Photo courtesy of Amanda)

Can You Dance for a Dolla if I Make You Holla?

sb — Thu, 21 May 2009 01:09:40 +0000

BEAUTIFUL BEAUTIFUL is having the courage to beg and the audacity to make light of your predicament. You got screwed, no fault of your own, and now you’re suffering. But first you go on, get down, have a little fun, mock those before you, and get a move on. It’s all good. Don’t let the ignorant blowhards tell you it ain’t civilized to beg. Begging is difficult enough without anyone scolding you for it. Yo blowhard, see my f’d up circumstances? Then chill. News flash to all beggars: Judgers judge and subscribe to a soul-eating conscience of capitalistic boo-hoo where little people are stepped on after being trampled and one can’t do a darn thing to make them see the light. But take heart, knowing everyone, I repeat everyone needs a helping hand at some critical point in their life. This helping hand isn’t welfare, a hand out, or food stamps and even if it is, who gives a hoot? There you go judging Judgers. Stop. It’s also an opportunity to gather you and start anew. And when you somewhere somehow find a way to break through or are given a chance and the pieces are all picked up and survival means more now than ever before, well then, why don’t you smile, exhale, and do a little dance? Shake, shake it baby. Before offering a helping hand to the fool who didn’t give you his.
(Photo courtesy of SeenyaRita at flickr)

We Torture, We Slaughter, We Massacre, But We Never Engage in the Act of Being Gay

sb — Tue, 19 May 2009 07:22:34 +0000

BEAUTIFUL BEAUTIFUL is making a last stand. Death awaits, but no. Life flash signal prompt beeps. You draft me, you train me, you love me, love me lots, I’m your poster boy, have me kill, who? Brown people, man do I have to? We have to preserve the American way. Yes sir! So fire, stab, and kill, kill, kill your brothers, kill ‘em well. How’d I do? Fantastic. Thank you for the medal, thank you for your service. Whoa, wait, wait now, no, no. Now I love him, yeah he, him, lots, big lots, he’s my poster boy, what’s the big f’n deal? Read the Bible, son. So I’m done, dead, destroyed. You betrayed us, son. Me? You’re no longer an American, son. Yo, you kill me once, take all I know, my soul heart and peace away, kill me again, take my love life and partner away, but no. Hell no. No more. I won’t let you kill no one no else no more. I be gone, smoke and ashes, your shameful vet, your bible defacin’ commie, your parade ballin’ queer, but this spirit cries out. My spirit, fool. Channeled through you-know-who. Says it’s my time, my time to save. Not the world, just you. Save you. Mr. Red White and Blue, the one who doesn’t have a clue.

Pillow Read

sb — Tue, 19 May 2009 06:42:50 +0000

BEAUTIFUL BEAUTIFUL is any book that takes us on a journey into a world of inconceivable characters, a diversion of settings, and ideas of tremendous power and poignancy, allowing for our own imagination to stretch into a blissful oblivion that upon return we are transformed into something better. Something more human, something to offer.
(photo courtesy of cindiann at flickr)

Yes, We Look Hard in the Mirror Before We Lob Grenades in Strangers’ Homes

sb — Mon, 18 May 2009 07:27:57 +0000

BEAUTIFUL BEAUTIFUL is the world you need to live in, not the world you think you live in. Consider your ridiculous reptilian face. Who could love this face? Or find it even remotely attractive? It’s hideous. You can’t love it, so why are you wasting your time nurturing it? Stop trying to front, it ain’t happening. There’s no point to brushing your piss yellow teeth, washing your crater sore face, trimming your pubes from your fleshy nose, sanding your pores from your cheeks, plucking your single continuous everlasting brow, picking the crusty critters from your eyes, moisturizing the dark clouds off your lids, or even perfecting your ugly fugly smile, they see you for what you are. It’s fixed in their mind and there’s nothing you can do to change that. There’s no self-improvement in superficiality. So walk away. Leave. Get out. Your reflection sickens the world. Sickens me. Why? Because you haven’t the slightest clue you’re a nitwit. Yes, a clueless moronic superficial nitwit whose world revolves around the exterior of you. If it didn’t then you’d see a world where faces of children are burned in the name of freedom. Our freedom. Who do you think launches airstrikes and mistakes children for the Taliban? Oh, but you don’t care? I figured and it’s okay, you’ve been given the freedom to dismiss another one of our cruel acts as something that happens far far away like in Space. Really, it’s okay, go back to watching The Hills and pretend you’re one of them. After all, we gave you the freedom to be what you want. The freedom to speak your mind and think on your own. The freedom to wear, if you must, nothing. And, if anything, to diss your ridiculous reptilian face.
(Photo courtesy of LA Times)

Oh Baby What a Gorgeous Crazy Sexy Funny Ass You Are

sb — Sun, 17 May 2009 07:12:28 +0000

BEAUTIFUL BEAUTIFUL is making an ass out of yourself all the while encouraging people to look. Why not? Let them laugh, snicker, twitter at you, let them share in your craziness, let them point the finger: what a bloody fool! Your internal reply is then so? So what if my behavior horrifies you? If done momentarily (note: do not make a fledgling career of being a jackass, already too many out there) such ridiculous behavior can humble you and connect you deeper to the very same people who were snickering at you. Beware, this may take some time with certain individuals who fail to grasp that there’s actually a person in personality. (Photo courtesy of LaserLisa)

You Took it All, I Have No More to Give

sb — Sun, 17 May 2009 05:01:19 +0000

BEAUTIFUL BEAUTIFUL is justified anger at mother nature. Yet mother nature can’t be fought so you cry, curse, scream, cry some more. And no one listens, no one cares, no one’s there. A sudden realizations falls over you: you’re not dead like everyone else. Such dire circumstances offer hope. You embrace Him with vigor and strength and pray for a little break. Yes, your 15 minutes from all the terror, suffering, and chaos, so you can live again, breathe again, love again. (photo courtesy of vasaman)

Easy With That Spoon…You Might Actually Eat Something You Like

sb — Sat, 16 May 2009 06:09:31 +0000

BEAUTIFUL BEAUTIFUL is taste and its pleasurable and/or unpleasurable jolt of sensation the very second it pets our tongue. The question of it is anything. Anything or any thing accounts for a distinct experience in taste. And equally beautiful, no one nowhere knows a darn thing about what any one anywhere likes. No single individual is powerless in regards to taste; power of taste is defined by what you like, dislike, feel is insipid, or don’t give a hoot if it even existed. Yet often a community of rebel rousers attempts to diminish individual power by guilt. Example: fries taste great but make us fat. Obesity is rampant in society, thus fries suddenly taste salty and greasy and yucky because we can’t afford to be fat for the sake (and expense) of our health, our children, and our community! No disagreement on what makes us fat and why we’re getting fatter, but why is power suddenly stripped and one’s own taste bitterly violated. That is, if, and only if, you sucker yourself into guilt. Here’s a tip: Don’t. Make a decision on your own for once. As obviously silly as that sounds so goes the power of one’s own taste prevailing in a world where freedoms drop at the sound of a tank. (photo courtesy of Madame Li)

Be Nice to the New Babysitter, Okay? Her Name’s Panasonic Plasma and She’s 52 Inches.

sb — Fri, 15 May 2009 06:13:50 +0000

BEAUTIFUL BEAUTIFUL is the maturation of a child’s mind from naive passerby to astute spectator. The child now readily sees the harsh realities of our turbulent world with tremendous feeling and yet its mind conveys judgments on the simplest level. It is now where mother and father play a critical role in the child’s evolution or run the risk of losing their necessary influence to the tomatoes on television and the potatoes on the playground. Vegetables yes, but alone they’re in no able position to properly nourish earth’s most precious prize. (photo courtesy of rafmad)

Excuse Me, Can You Show Me the Way to the Mall?

sb — Wed, 13 May 2009 07:43:18 +0000

BEAUTIFUL BEAUTIFUL is direction or lack of. You’re lost, you haven’t a clue on how to get to that place you must be at and being alone you have no choice but to rely on strangers. Strangers. Weird, scary, intrusive. Or kind. The kindness of strangers. Yes, these strangers exist and they guide you along a path, a path that when arriving at your destination there is instant tranquility. All because you got there, your fears are tucked away, and you’re still standing. (photo courtesy of sleepy owl)

A Benign Tumor if We’re Lucky

sb — Tue, 12 May 2009 07:41:20 +0000

BEAUTIFUL BEAUTIFUL is a mind’s need for serenity amidst a world of piquancy. A world we create that insists we zoom around from here to there, there to here, in circles or repeated crisscrossing with a simple-minded focus on monetary indulgence, decorative accomplishment, or artificial pleasure. It’s utter chaos and we do little to lessen the mayhem from our minds. A tumor normally ensues. Not literally, just in image. But that foretold image is what we’ve allowed ourselves not to see. Still a search for peace is what the mind needs, if not peace itself. (photo courtesy of ejecutante at flickr)

He Loves Me, He Loves Me Not

sb — Mon, 11 May 2009 07:16:17 +0000

BEAUTIFUL BEAUTIFUL is thought racing. Wonderful, pleasurable thoughts speeding through your mind, ziggin’ and zaggin’ at your heart, trying to fend off a crash of confusion. All because you got another letter. And this one said I miss you with an ‘always’ after love. I think he loves me. He’s 5000 miles away, broke, car-less, and two planets off. But he loves me. Loves me real. Why would he say it in a letter if he didn’t mean it? A letter Mom?! Not stupidy spam fart emails. For real? Jeez. There she goes again. Thought racing with her bare legs extended and twirled like a pretzel, a toe tap to the wall, head gently back as if he was looking down, and she wondering wonderful pleasurable thoughts trying to fend off another crash of confusion. (photo courtesy of woodenheart)

Play With Me, I’ll Show You the Way

sb — Mon, 11 May 2009 01:15:38 +0000

BEAUTIFUL BEAUTIFUL is a child’s innate ability to magically glide into a world we once knew but now deny as “child’s play.” That world is filled with flowers, smiles, and yes, a place where we can actually walk on water.(photo courtesy of awful sarah)

Severe Sorrow

sb — Sun, 10 May 2009 16:46:32 +0000

BEAUTIFUL BEAUTIFUL is empathy. A faraway man grips his child’s arm for the very last time. The child cannot feel his father; the child is dead. The faraway man agonizes, asking why could this happen, wondering what more could he have done, contemplating where he will go from here, and how will each day even matter without his child. And cry. Day in, day out, he cries into a dark void. There is no anger, no questioning, no nothing, just cries. Soft, loud, sad, angry. A dramatic range of emotions, but cries nonetheless. There is nothing one can offer this man. No comforting words, no great compensation, no human substitutes will suffice for his severe sorrow. All that’s left, on the simplest level, is the ability to understand and share the feelings of this faraway man. Some of us have taken the route prior with a loved one, a friend, a distant relative, or even with a faraway man. Yet empathy is the greatest gift one can offer right now…It is the only gift. (photo courtesy of slurpee)

Oh I’m Falling in Love

sb — Sun, 10 May 2009 12:47:27 +0000

BEAUTIFUL BEAUTIFUL is love and yet our continual inability to express it when most appropriate hurts us, haunts us, and, on occasion, destroys us. But we keep coming back determined to find that right time because what we feel can’t be denied and without love there is no time. There is no life, there’s nothing.

There’s Always One That Will Piss on Your Parade

sb — Sun, 10 May 2009 08:07:46 +0000

BEAUTIFUL BEAUTIFUL is the seeming presence of a higher power and its uncanny immediacy with nature. Or perhaps, it’s human devotion attracting a following from all of God’s species. Come what may, this beautiful connection between nature’s attraction and human devotion isn’t as prevalent as one would think. When’s the last time you stood in a park surrounded by 200 loyal birds? Ideally, the next time we stand in the park our eyes should open a little wider and not see so blindly. Beauty is there, just waiting, waiting for us to embrace it. (photo courtesy of mr. mark)

Grass is Blonde, Hair is Long, Fire is Gone, Something’s Wrong

sb — Sun, 10 May 2009 07:11:58 +0000

BEAUTIFUL BEAUTIFUL is our whimsical self we often ignore and rarely explore. Possibly we’re afraid of what others might think of us or perhaps our cynical selves (a byproduct of our catastrophic world) sway us from expressing an essential ingredient of our personality. In a land of horrifying hate, mass murders, random rapes, and wasteful wars, a whimsical sense of humor is utterly cool and quite refreshing. Not only to add happy cheer to the lives of our loved ones, but also to assure our fellow destroyers that being whimsical is just one more way we’re not going to let you bring us down. (photo courtesy of strizh)

Sometimes a Happy Meal isn’t Always on the Menu

sb — Sun, 10 May 2009 06:44:37 +0000

BEAUTIFUL BEAUTIFUL is reflection. Digging deep within and asking, “Are you really happy in the place you’re in?” Then what are you doing to get out of that place and into something new. It’s gonna hurt, regardless. That’s just how it is. But somehow, someway you’ll endure and carry on. Don’t confide in anyone, just do it. Go to that scary place that brings you nightmares. It’s alright, sometimes a freakish scare in the night is what we need. So go. And once you’re back, reflect again, you’ll be glad you took the ride. (photo courtesy of taylor koa 22)

You Could’ve Told Me on the First Date There Were 3 of You

sb — Sun, 10 May 2009 06:33:43 +0000

BEAUTIFUL BEAUTIFUL is realizing you’re a multitude of contradictions arising out of your multiple personalities and somehow, miraculously, you can look at that and say, yeah that’s me, that’s me, and that’s me and be totally okay with it when nobody else is. (photo courtesy of rebekka at flickr)