Beauty is about satisfaction. Its like food – everyone has different tastes, and everyone can only take so much of it before feeling sick to the stomach. Can you compare apples and oranges? Not really, even though it’s now an age old question.
The thing about you is that you aren’t quite beautiful, you’re strange. Interesting. Odd. Confusingly – exclusively – intriguing. And because you’re so strange, people don’t know what to make of you. Looking at you, I can never get enough; you’re just one of those people I can look at forever and never be satisfied, not get sick to the stomach. Because what the hell am I looking at? Who are you? Why can’t I stop experiencing you? Why can’t I tear my eyes away from your face without wanting to get one more taste? One more bite? One more, one more, one more.
Beauty is about satisfaction. But you – you are about somethin’ else completely.
You’re about to change me forever.