Today we celebrate aesthetic, yesterday we celebrated love, and soon we will celebrate ornatity. Where does this leave room for us to celebrate life? When are we finally going to be given a chance to take a long walk, in complete stoicness? So many of us work against each other, and disguise it as looking out for them. We mold and shape our flesh to fit unnaturally on our bones, and complain at the commonness. The human skin does not wrinkle inhumanely. I look into the mirror taken by the subject of another, and there is nothing. There is something devoid behind the obsoleteness of a figure against the wall. Often it feels as if they, themselves, believe they need to stay as still as a portrait on the wall. They do not recognize, that they are alive. So in between every meal around the dinner table, every instance of eye contact that I catch, and every mobile conversation; I admire my loved ones. I admire the way my best friend’s head relieves itself at a sign of entertainment, the way her hands clutch themselves together- almost like one is asking the other if they heard that joke. My mind fondles at my mother’s long hair falling over her face while she is focused, but also the way her fingernails rub against her thumbprints when she feels anticipatory. Noticing these instances, one can recognize that the prettiest pose of them all is not a side profile glance. It is not a soft smile with your tongue roofing the mouth, nor is it grasping your hip bones breathlessly. I find my loved ones beautiful after their lips curve up from telling a funny joke, while their eyes wander the space above us amidst every conversation we have undermining love, and as their eyebrows furrow down at their fumbling hands as they ambitiously meet pen and paper. My friends are beautiful because they live, and life is beautiful because their hearts beat correlating to the wind.