The Most Beautiful

Tomorrow is supposed to be my convocation. Which I'm skipping because the person I care about would have not come if I were there. Besides, I have a fucked up family that doesn't care about me. I'm just gonna celebrate my graduation tomorrow over lunch with a bunch of friends.

This is just a little something that I wrote and posted on HUCP.

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I miss the days that felt like dream. Wǒ xīwàng wǒ kěyǐ xuǎnzé xìng shīyì.

I know that this won't reach you. It's just that this was the place where I first got honest with my own feelings, before I got honest with you.

You know I don't do compliments. I think I might be a little late in figuring this out compared to most people. How beauty truly is in the eye of the beholder. Probably because I'm never one that gives much thoughts about looks, even though I've dated and been in relationships with beautiful girls before.

Knowing you, I've learned that the concept of "the most beautiful" is not something out of the bell curve. It's independent from the continuum of standard deviations, of what is considered aesthetically pleasing to the ocular senses on the normal distribution. It's not universally agreed based on mediated norms and standards. Nothing to do with symmetry, any arrangement nor composition of features following a sequence found by a renowned 13th-century Italian mathematician.

I'm fine with this paradox, it causes me no dissonance. That the most ordinary is also "the most beautiful". The definition is free from constraints of any kind of defects, more baroque than it is perfect. Riddled with biases, an unwinnable, losing debate of logic. Yet I still would defend my clearly distorted opinion to death.

At the end of the day, my idea of "the most beautiful" is cunningly familiar, somewhat parallel to my ideas of the most inspiring, the dearest, the most relevant. I looked around and saw beauty everywhere. But everyone else is just another pretty face, everything else is just noise.

Rooted in the strongest sense of appreciation of a singular existence amongst the many..."The most beautiful" is a title, a paper crown that I reserved to my revered, most desired, companion of proximal intellect. An illuminating candle in the dark, in this demon-haunted world. A Lorenz's butterfly that kicked up cascading tornadoes of growth. And I'm utterly convinced with this irrational, unshakeable conviction. That other people are at the biggest loss of their lives, for they might only come to a fraction of agreement with me. It's a damn shame that they won't ever experience a similar revelation of an esoteric realization.

In the past, "the most beautiful" might have been the different people that came into my life. And I really thought that I'd think differently since we've already been far apart for long. But for now, at least in this moment. And quite probably for a while still.

As I closed my eyes, tucked in a corner of my brain. Those neural connections that formed the idea of you...Without a shred of a doubt, about this, I'm sure and certain.

Today, the one that reigns, that singular existence, "the most beautiful", is you.

I hope you'll feel beautiful on your convocation, Little Miss Tuzki. May it be one of your most wonderful memories. Stay cool and awesome. - C