Unmasked at Night

“Ah! realize your youth while you have it. Don’t squander the gold of your days, listening to the tedious, trying to improve the hopeless failure, or giving away your life to the ignorant, the common, and the vulgar. These are the sickly aims, the false ideals, of our age. Live! Live the wonderful life that is in you! Let nothing be lost upon you. Be always searching for new sensations. Be afraid of nothing. . . . A new Hedonism — that is what our century wants. You might be its visible symbol.” (2.16)” The Picture of Dorian Gray- Oscar Wilde

I stare at the world from a distance and i wonder about what it is to exist, to live and to be me. Beauty all around; it is almost inexcusable, undeniable and inspirational. I knew beauty was common, but it never gets old, it never gets boring. That is the wonder of beauty, even the word has a rhyme so flawless that it has you picturing the brightest truth to ever exist. The thought of beauty compels my mind and my emotions into a peek of pursuit that i have not calculated or organized. An aimless pursuit that has me eager yet still and balanced. Except i find myself shying away from my own reflection in other people’s eyes, maybe i just  love letting them find their own in mine. I love showing them the way inside their own truths, their own beauty and their own forsaken peace. I do not worry about myself, i always seem to land anyway. I express myself to myself, i don’t need portals or tools. I have not found myself anywhere else but deep inside my troubles and my joys, so i am teaching myself to no longer look out.

I find myself writing on my own, no feedback and no criticism, no applause and no rejection. Positively alone and without a trace, my words flow out of my mind and onto this screen. I open my heart to definitions and i try to watch beauty unfold. At times disappointment hurts me when its all i can spill out, and at others, like now, i find myself in a state of release, my mind afloat and not drowning screaming for life.

The hardest part is always beginning that new line, finding the words to introduce your thoughts in the most adequate way. Just as well, the hardest part is taking new steps in foreign grounds, ones you haven’t trodden before, ones that have you confused and uncertain, ones that hold mystery and chances of defeat or triumph. Guardedly, you look for the right and firm steps, only to save yourself the inadequacy of falling right in the beginning. You try to make a way that will introduce you to the best possibilities, a way that you can find every time you get lost. And so you pound your feet and you insert your full potential into every strike you take, hoping you are making the right decision and taking the accurate turns. Then when it rains you will find your way back, you will have your print and your truth engraved on every corner.

I smile when i come to the end of this because beauty is outside my window, in bright city lights and in every raindrop softly enhancing and reflecting my shy thoughts. Beauty lay in the mystic waters and in the freezing winds, it colors itself whichever shade we want it to. Beauty is generous and it is available, it is pure and it needs no reason. Beauty calms my mind into a soothing song of quiet and melodic homesickness, topped with gratitude for where i am now.

Every soul is a wonder in its own troubles, its own aches, its genuine desires and its wounded longings. We become what we allow ourselves to feel, and we grow as much as we allow our minds to wander off. Every soul is an imagination and a truth. Every soul is a beauty unmasked at night.