Have you ever stared at the sweeping lines of your own body, felt the smoothness of your own skin, and thought- 'Wow, I'm beautiful!' ? It's not the kind of beauty one thinks of in context to lust or envy. It's the kind that all human beings are capable of realising- the beauty of living flesh and blood, of form, proportion and harmony. You know you have it when you’re happy just to be alive. Then, your clumsiest step is a challenge to gravity. You don’t sweat, but give off entrancingly musky odours. And each time you blink, you paint the world with fresh colours.
I wrote this last morning. Why can't I feel like this everyday? :(