drunkencynic's Diaryland Diary


your cynicism is simply a pose...beauty is a form of genius

-Being natural is simply a pose, and the most irritating pose I know.-- (Wilde)

I got grounded last night. I was late coming home. All because I was reluctant to interrupt Heidi talking to check the time. I am such a dork.

Consequently, I had to sit there and listen to my mother lecturing me for hours.

Okay, I admit it. I wasn't listening. I was counting up the days until I turn eighteen.

If God is willing (and God usually isn't) I should be getting my license tommorrow (about time).

I am Dorian Gray. Do you know how hideously depressing that is?

"'I am jealous of everything whose beauty does not die. I am jealous of the portrait you have painted of me. Why should it keep what I must lose? Every moment that passes takes something from me and gives something to it. Oh, if it were only the other way! If the picture could change, and I could be always what I am now! Why did you paint it? It will mock me some day--mock me horribly!' The hot tears welled into his eyes; he tore his hand away and, flinging himself on the divan, he buried his face in the cushions, as though he was praying."

Beauty is so fleeting. So fragile. So elusive.

I've always loved Chapter Five, from Part Four, Book One in Les Miserables: The rose discovers that it is a weapon of war. It reminds me of me. When I was ten years old, a boy decided to have a crush on me that was followed by many more and many stares of approval and lecherousness and thus pushed me into the chasm that is growing up. From Les Mis "Cosette, knowing herself to be beautiful, lost the grace of unawareness; an exquisite grace, for beauty enhanced by innocence is incomparable, and nothing is more enchanting than artless radiance that unwittingly holds the key to a paradise. But what she lost in this respect she gained in meditative charm. Her whole being, suffused with the joy of youth, innocence, and beauty, breathed a touching earnestness."

"Knowing she was beautiful, she perceived, however indistinctly, that she was armed. Women play with their beauty like children with a knife, and sometimes cut themselves."

This is exactly true. When I realized that I was beautiful, or at least attractive to the other sex, I felt armed. Safe. Indestructable. at least i have that.

"And beauty is a form of genius-- is higher, indeed, than genius, as it needs no explanation. It is of the great facts of the world, like sunlight, or spring-time, or the reflection in dark waters of that silver shell we call the moon. It cannot be questioned. It has its divine right of sovereignty. It makes princes of those who have it. You smile? Ah! when you have lost it you won't smile. . . . People say sometimes that beauty is only superficial. That may be so, but at least it is not so superficial as thought is. To me, beauty is the wonder of wonders. It is only shallow people who do not judge by appearances." (Wilde)

But the truth is- nobody can rely on it forever.

"Time is jealous of you, and wars against your lilies and your roses. You will become sallow, and hollow-cheeked, and dull-eyed."

Nothing gold can stay.

11:57 a.m. - 2003-07-14


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