Ha. Ha! Another installment of the Generalization Chronicles
As compared to all other cultural demographic groups, the least is expected of them.
“Expected” denoted by expressing a vital constructive use for society. As in material contributions. We don’t expect nor desire that they do anything other than look hot. That they parade in front of our lustful eyes while we pant like thirsty dogs.
We expect them to play the role of delicate mantle pieces. We dust them off and polish them before we receive guests so that we might bask in their beautiful glow. We derive a sense of vicarious, empty pride in their presence.
Their beauty is a tangible, but elusive, object we can’t wrap or embrace in our futile grasp.
We esteem it, we place it squarely and solidly at the top of communal pedestals.
Some die for it, physically, or spiritually. Some are dying for beauty this instant. Some kill for it. Rare beauty wrecks and spawns.
In this world of mundane pleasures and swelling mediocrity, undiluted beauty suffuses us with a rapturous wonder and craving and elicits an electric sense of living, of hunger and beastly march. This beauty is winnowed from the indistinguishable and relentless procession of unremarkablable humanity.
It’a feast for the eyes!
They are good-natured. For life rewards them with the prize of angelic glory and how wonderful to fall into such a role of grand expectations on the part of others without having to lift a finger.
Her presence sparks smiles and illuminates moods and her beauty exudes an expectation of smug royalty and the swath of mankind bows at her feet. Life is gentle and congenitally rewarding. How can she not smile and endear? Thus molded from the finest porcelain, she is of delicate nature and roughness has not been allowed to char her soul. Ever. In fact, her beauty has paved a safe path for the growth of her character which has been fashioned in a retiring void. Constructed of such non-challenging and characterless demands, her personality, though gracious and superficially kind, offers little else below that level. And below is something she has never been allowed to cultivate for her persona has been crafted with the careful hands of watchful supplicants who never permitted her to scrape her soul or bruise her ego.
She is raised, skin-deep perfection, a model of vague acquaintance, but a soul as seemingly empty as the flawless skin encasing her mortal flesh and sinew.
She is beauty.