Nobody Reads This, Chapter Seven
You are the Beauty, and equally the Beast
Someone once told me “Beauty is in the eye of the beholder.” What a loaded statement. It opens up the portal to anyone and everyone who have an opinion based on what they believe is beautiful or anything in relation.
This flower is beautiful because the colors, the shape, the smell, the fact that it resides in nature and even the painter cannot mix his pallet perfectly enough to create it. That song is beautiful because the cleverness of the lyrics, the swelling of the music, the build of the unknown tension and release that to those with small vocabularies cannot fathom describing. The girl I met the other day was striking. Her hair unnaturally bleach blonde and so short drew me to her deep blue eyes and the excitement of her mouth and whatever she wanted to say I would listen too. Him, I can’t stare at him too long because his eyes pierce through me like emotional daggers and yet I’m drawn to the softness of his voice, the gentility of his questions and somehow just in his presence I am more beautiful and safe and silent. The scent of a newborn child is something that cannot be made in a lab, or bottled, it exists and is heavenly and soothing. After reading this book I was moved, I was motivated, I was somehow complete and yet completely lost and it was exciting and I was alive, I am alive. Words by the dead or pulsing poet drive me into a new being. It not only tugs at my ears but it yanks at the very center of who I am and I am flying because of those words. I got drunk the other night, he was hot – ‘nuff said. She was the most intriguing thing I’d ever seen and her energy pulled me to her, pulled my heart and my hips to her. That movie the other night, that I watched with you, although frightening and startling will be ours, because together we are a mess, and I desire the disruption, the sweet distraction. Your skin…is amazing. You may believe that all that makeup makes you prettier but I am interested in what you look like without it, because I’m interested in what you really look like, I’m interested in who you really are. You laughter brightens my spirit. When you walk into a room, its like a light turned on. You are the flame and I am drawn to you. The play we went to the other night made me think. It made me question myself – in a good way. I’ve never experienced anything like that before, ever. Did you write that song? Its good, really good. Your performance, sir, was remarkable – truly. I respect you. We have so much in common. No one’s ever made something for me before. These are tears of joy. Your laughter is infectious. You have the ability to make everyone comfortable when everything is uncomfortable. This IS my life, and I’m inviting you into it because I live better with you in it. She said….he said….I said…you said.
Some people think paintings are beauty captured forever. Some people think nature itself, the smells, the light, the colors, the sounds are beautiful and that our bodies are pulled to nature because we are part of it. Some people have to have materialistic things to make them believe they look beautiful, smell beautiful which would inevitably mean they could get whatever they wanted because of their beauty….hhmmmm. Some people will never know they are beautiful on the outside, some people will never know they are beautiful on the inside because our own eyes, and mind, and heart and soul do not allow us to do so. Something out in the world has instilled in them, in us, what beautiful should or shouldn’t be and based on that we decide we are the opposite. We are not the beauty, we are the beast.
Someone once told me “to be beastly is to let the animal out, calm the beast within.”
Again, a loaded statement, another portal to say what is animalistic to one may not be to others. A place that states what is good things or bad thing to say. Is it horrible, is it beastly, is it just plain mean, or is it just blunt honesty that you cannot handle?
Some people are hunters, they must kill to find their rank in the circle of life. Slaughter houses exist to bring you your burgers, your steaks, your tenderloins. All that blood splashed for either your $1 double cheeseburger or your $12.99 bacon cheeseburger – depending on what joint you may frequent. All those piercings are digusting. All those tattoos are ridiculous. I am afraid of needles. He was the most awkward man I’ve ever met. She was the worst kisser EVER. You were a little fish in a little pond, now you’re a little fish in a bigger pond – I can’t imagine how lonely you must be; cause you’re not a dancer, you’re not a singer and you’re not an actor, you never were, you never will be. My friends have fangs that were specially designed for their mouths and jaw line and teeth. I never got a pair, I totally regret it. Those same friends would kiss my neck and scrape the side of my neck gently with those teeth and it was exciting. You look fat in that dress, go change – ouch. Your haircut makes your face look too round. If you wear your jeans any lower I’m going to see everything else about you. My daughter isn’t a slut. Find the reddest color lipstick and smear it all over him with your mouth. I hate you. I don’t trust you. I need you to change who you are because who you are now doesn’t work for me. I’m not ready for this relationship. I want out. No one is interested in that information. You broke my heart!!!! Bastard. Bitch. You ruined my life. That is my ex-girlfriend, she cheated on me. That was my boyfriend, and he is cheating on me in broad daylight. I’m going to scar. He left me with this bruise. She left me with our kid. My mother disappointed me so much I promised I would never become her. My father, left when I was 3. I was left at 16 to raise my younger siblings, along with my aunts kids. You are my worst mistake. You are my biggest mistake. I regret ever meeting you. I curse the day you were born. He said….She said….I said….You said.
Growing up I saw the Fairie Tale Theatre version of Beauty and the Beast with Susan Sarandon as the beauty. I remember the texture of the film, her dress, her hair, the castle, – but I don’t remember the beast. Not the actors name, not what he looked like as the beast, not his clothes.
As a child I watched the series Beauty and the Beast with Linda Hamilton and Ron Pearlman. Episode after episode, week after week, I watched with my sister and my mommie on the couch or in mommie’s room. Often we found ourselves rooting for the beast, he is misunderstood. He wants nothing but to protect his family, his loved ones. Disney splashed the screen with color and light and song when Beauty and the Beast was drawn to perfection and released for all of us to enjoy and experience. Every girl wanted to be Belle. Belle loved her father, would do anything for the person she loved including giving her life for them. Running away means you’re running towards something else and along the way natures claws and branches, LIFE will rip at your flesh and you have to decide if you will stop or be persistant. You have decide if what you are running from or to, is worth it. But not every girl is willing to live with a beast, or talk to a beast, or see what the beast has to offer from the inside. I don’t know many men who are willing to do it either. Beauty, as the person, male or female, can represent whatever and whomever you’d like. So can the Beast.
As an adult I was cast in the staged musical of Beauty and the Beast. The children would laugh and sing along. The beast, our beast would represent more than a character in a play. The adults would question his performance as an actor but never bother to ask or understand what takes place on a casting panel, or in the rehearsal room. Would you honestly want your four year old in the front row sitting beneath a man of 6’4 with a deep frightening voice unable to control his temper? We need the audience to be able to relate but see through it so they can connect quickly and root for the good guy quickly. It doesn’t matter though. Because their opinions of the beauty or the beast exist because of their own experiences in life, its characters like the beauty and the beast that allow us to begin questioning everything else about who we are.
Who is willing to see what a beast has to offer?
Who is willing to look past the outside of the what the beauty has to offer
Who is willing to see what you and what you have to offer?
This is what I have to offer. I am both. You, are both. Depending on where I am, who I am with, what I’m wearing, what I’ve eaten, what I’ve had to drink I am beautiful or beastly. It comes from my life experiences that I am careful with men, and not from fear of being hurt but because I change and I know this of myself. I have hurt them, they have hurt me – it’s even. But from these experiences I’ve learned that sometimes the beautiful hug from the beautiful man doesn’t mean nearly as much as the rough kiss from another. I’ve learned that I can look into their eyes and see what they expect from the night or if they want there to be more nights where we are just looking at one another. I can paint my face and hide that I’d been crying for hours, go drown myself in liquor and run away. And when we run away, when I run away, I go through that foggy night, through branches that scratch at my face and skin and end up looking for the person I know still loves me. And after running in circles I will end up at a new place confronted by a new face. Sometimes it is my own, sometimes it is someone else. Sometimes that someone else is what I believe is beautiful sometimes that someone else is a beast. Sometimes, they are both, as I am both.
I can run and find that I was running because I was being the beast. I will run and realize that what I said was mean, and hurtful and ugly and uncalled for. I will look at myself and not see who I am. I will turn the chairs over and in anger I will curse in frustration and then all of a sudden see someone that calms the beast. Someone who is willing to look past what they see. Someone who is willing to see that I’m not angry at them, I’m angry with myself with how I look, with what I say, with what I feel and I may not be able to make sense of it but they are willing to sit with me until I figure it out. They are willing to look past my faults, my mistakes and think that perhaps I’ve learned from these but the changes have only happened to me on the inside. Maybe my heart is better, but I don’t let it reflect in my appearance, maybe I forgot that it is connected. The same person in me that wants to reach out and touch his face tenderly wants to a moment later scratch my nails down his back. It is beautiful and beastly. It is passion, it is colorful, it is light that shines from the inside out. The animalistic behavior does not define me but I finally allow myself to attack.
I have two eyes for you too look through. But inside there is either perfect wonderment or a messy bafflement. Would you be willing to stay for either?
Would you be willing to stay until the rage in my subsides?
I have to ears, are you convinced that whatever you say will go in and stay, or are you scared that it will go in one and out the other.
I have two hands are you willing to let me caress you or hold you then scratch you and dominate you.
With my feet, will you bow down and kiss them or allow me to walk over you?
Are you willing to give and receive?
Are you able to accept?
Must there always be something denied in order for the adventure to feel more risky?
Must there be rules so that it feels better when we break them?
Will you only ever see my skin, my curves, the hair on my head and my mouth?
Will you look into my eyes and search?
Will you allow me to search?
Will I be able to accept being jaded?
Is there such a thing as bliss?
It really is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
It really is the most horrible thing I’ve ever seen.
I really is this hard?
It should never be this difficult.
If I let it go, will I hate myself
Will you hate me?
I am full and empty.
I am corrupted and innocent
I am more sure than I have ever been; but so confused
I am hot and cold
I seek patience… impatiently
I have to be loud but I need to be silent
I am your beauty
I am my own beast.
I stand firm
I will continue to wait. . .