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.