And I dreamed about beautiful songs and beautiful pictures and people who dared to be young and beautiful, and as result, grew to be old and beautiful. And for the first time in my life I fully understood, and saw it in work, that beauty, just as happiness, is as much a conscious decision as a gift of god. O fcourse, I've known it as an abstract thought for years, but now I have actually seen it and seen how far I am from it. Which is funny in a way, funny that though my life is usually less pretty than my physical form, I'm better at finding happiness than at discovering my own personal beauty. But then I came to the thought that perhaps happiness is a passive acknowledgement, a recognition of the beauty of life and personal beauty is a active acknowledgement, an expres gratitude of the same. And activity, expression always takes more courage than passive acceptance. But now that I understand it, I want to grow beautiful, I want the dancers, the singers, the wide brimmed scarlet hats that paint a blush on my face, winter's white petals and the courage to love them back.