B

B: The bricks wall of a dark, dank, dirty alley brought to life by the colorful graffiti of “punks” expressing themselves. The beach at sunset. A mother nursing her baby. Curvy. Skinny. Piercings. A Titian painting. Tattoos, colorful and intricate gracing a shoulder. Scars. A couple holding hands. The starry sky of the countryside at night. Beauty: anything, everything, nothing. Can you tell me what beauty is? Beauty: ambiguity. Do I see myself as beautiful? Am I beautiful to others? These are things I ask myself, even if I know that all that counts is what’s inside, my kindness and love. Yet, so much emphasis is placed on what is seen on the skin level. Color, body type, clothes, posture; manipulated in an attempt to reach the impossible tip of perfection, the frosty summit above us all. In the end, artificial beauty can be bought for those that have the means and it’s easy to feel as if beauty has been obtained and conquered, absorbed into one’s very being. In truth, real beauty comes from one’s kindness, compassion, respectfulness, confidence; from one’s personality. Can you buy real beauty? Next time you see a bottle of beauty ( and I don’t mean the Calvin Klein perfume) or confidence on sale at your local store, be sure to ring me up. In the meantime, allow your inner beauty to thrive because, really, that’s all that matters.

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