“Those prideful of being ‘represented’, for appearance’s sake, in a workforce of utility can only be described as the ones who believe ugliness can be a form of beauty.”– Modern Romanticism
It is the ugliness of toil, to the creation of something beautiful, that separates both.
Poverty is not beautiful, as it should never be called such. It will only ever make poverty remain stagnant. People work, they toil, to make something of themselves. It is the toil that is the ugliness. It is the creation that becomes beautiful. To make something of oneself involves transfiguration, to become something better than the current person one is. That is beauty.
Beauty is a betterment of a former kind, not an acceptance of other supposed types. If it is ever the latter, then beauty becomes ugliness by way of what hideous stands for. Hideous is only ever the shattering or the destruction of creation. It is the death of a life, that represents this hideousness. If we, as people, ever believe ugliness can be beautiful, then we have thrown out the standard of preservation. However, only in the manner of excessive comfort, without the discipline that pain brings, can we be this way.
Rising above a current state, a meager stature where one has remained stagnant, is to become beautiful, is to create, is to make something of oneself. Love has no place, if we expect it to be handed to us, before us. We comprehend who we are. We should remember our identity.
An identity is not a discovery. It is a reminder of our universal selves. It is deceit that dominates a person’s mind, when they believe that “who they are” has “yet to be understood”. It is a deception, because what can be understood, to any person, is that what is made of oneself is a betterment of who they are, not directly of their identity.
Representation is the pride, inhabited in the mind, of one who cannot differ beauty from ugliness simply by understanding the notion that to make something of the self has nothing to do with appearances. It is to comprehend that appearances are stagnant, do not move, though are there to move others. If one is proud of simply being represented, then they are like the artwork hung upon the wall for viewing eyes. Inspiration for others, yet stagnancy for the self.
One is finished in “representation”, just as the artwork. A completed picture, and unable to progress the self any further.