‘Hey look isn’t it beautiful?’ she asked
‘It’s dead, dear’, he muttered grimly.
‘Who said dead things can’t be beautiful….’ Her beautiful mind replied, but she chose to remain silent.
Acceptance always came from agreeing with the self-righteous, to whom contradictions were just another word in the dictionary, those who had understood life in their own methodical way, who had imagined it to be the same for everyone else, and had no reservations imposing it on others- Ah how she envied them at times, how stupid and lucky they were she thought, and even miles away from home she was reminded again what her life was-a decaying carcass.
But she still chose to go on, ignoring the inert words of ordered human beings, because life is precious, a precious aberration- And perhaps that’s where the enchantment of a beautiful mind lies-they could even sprout a rose from a decaying carcass.
