Filth in the Beauty

Filth in the Beauty

A Story by Hanakuso

The reverse side of beauty, dyed by beloved filth.


           I had a name.

   How my name was lost remained a mystery. When I was a child, innocent and full of trust, they taught me everything was beautiful and ugliness only goes to those who deserve it: the abominable, the disobedient, and the cruel. But I asked myself, as I grew up, have I been that bad that everything started to hurt?

            I stopped my life. For a time, everything was at a standstill. It came to a point where I started to view people as separate entities behind the glass; breathing, moving, but never alive.  They were faceless mannequins who laughed with me and whispered all the dirt they know about me. The worst part was, I whispered back. I murmured all the things I knew, all negative and positive. The guilt patted my shoulder but I brushed it off. Survival came first, even if it kills me religiously.

           Life is funny sometimes. We wake up and never realize that our hearts were breaking. We eat our breakfast, we shower, we dress and we smile at the mirror, checking for flaws, not knowing we were reeking our souls to the core. Ironic, isn’t it? We want a perfect look, but never considered a perfect spirit. We seek the truth, but never the movement behind that certainty. We disallow ourselves the privilege to learn because we are too afraid to handle the weight of the knowledge. We deny ourselves.

          The feeling of idleness lingers, its noxious breath bearing down on me, pushing me and pulling me lower, lower, lower, until the mere thought of even just looking up to see the sky is painful. I was tired. I was tired of breathing, but I didn’t want to drown either. Truthfully, although the black blanket of doubt touched a part of my soul, there was still the gentle glow of certainty that warmed me, the kind of certainty that everything will be all fine, a certainty that the future can heal itself.

          In this world, where we all are born and end up falling, what do we live for? If it’s fate, accept it, no matter what kind of tomorrow visits. Even if I’ll come to hate myself, even if I’ll refuse to believe, I can’t come to like the person I’ll become. The change is needed. I smell the putrid scent of my heart; I can’t let others touch it. The young, the pure and the disconnected will catch my disease. Not everyone is safe; the contagion of the infection is highly transmissible.

          My name. I remember it now.

  You call me a filth in the beauty. 

© 2012 Hanakuso

Author's Note

This is based on the song "Filth in the Beauty" by the Japanese visual kei band "the GazettE". On my road to self-actualization, so my mind is still a little scrambled. Thank you!

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"Truthfully, although the black blanket of doubt touched a part of my soul, there was still the gentle glow of certainty that warmed me, the kind of certainty that everything will be all fine, a certainty that the future can heal itself."

~Jaja! I love You!

Posted 8 Years Ago

You are by far my favorite writer on writerscafe. I think you are truly talented. This is yet another great piece just like "Helvetican Ouroboros."

Posted 8 Years Ago

2 of 2 people found this review constructive.

This is excellent. It's very captivating. I love how you enumerate the daily routines each one of us has but then you start to question. Those hit-hard self-conscious and awakening questions really allow the readers to indulge. More! ^^

Posted 8 Years Ago

I liked it a lot. It was very interesting. Writing from ones true thoughts; about what one thinks, questions or believes, is a really great feeling. So I think you have written here, something worth while, and quite nice.

Posted 8 Years Ago


8 Years Ago

Thank you! I've been trying my best to evaluate my life and so far, these thoughts have only touched.. read more
A love for poetry

8 Years Ago

Hay thats really good. I think it is better if everyone could do this; at least you won't be pulled .. read more

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4 Reviews
Added on November 8, 2012
Last Updated on November 8, 2012
Tags: the GazettE, thoughts, personal, rant, self-discovery, fiction




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