There’s a particular quality that a person has when they are free to be their truest self, when they indulge in no pretense and simply exist without making a concerted effort to do so.  I call this quality beauty.

People who spend a lot of time on their appearance rarely have the quality that I define as beauty.  They exude far too much superficiality and wear their external flawlessness as a mask over the internal flaws that afflict their being far more profoundly than facial deformation ever would. 

Such people are of little interest to me, not because I hate them, but because they are not the people that I am drawn towards.  People who consider themselves as being physically beautiful often assume that I am attracted to them, but the plain truth is that I am largely indifferent to them as I would be to shiny wrapping paper over an empty box.

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