Violet Lightbea
03-29-2004, 10:54 PM
At the Avis counter at Nice airport, I saw a
young man that was so beautiful he took one’s breath away.
He was tall and graceful, and his face was the most
perfectly sculptured human face I have ever seen. My
girlfriend was shaking so bad, she could hardly sign the
rental form.
In the south of France, you see lots of pretty girls and
good-looking boys, but this lad, with his brown hair and
brown eyes, and elegant suit, was beyond good looking.
There was something almost supernatural about him.
At first, I thought, wow! how beautiful. But
then, I grieved for the torment of his life. A person with
those stunning good looks would suffer endlessly.
All people would ever want is to own a part
of him, they wouldn’t care for who he actually was, or his
subtle human feelings. You see, people usually only pretend
to like beauty, for deep down, they hate it—it assails
their ugliness in the cold light of the truth.
Later that night, while out dancing with my
girlfriend, I saw the young French man in a bar in the
company of some gay males—he was laughing and talking and
at ease with himself.
I felt greatly relieved for his soul. I now knew he was
safe in this lifetime.
young man that was so beautiful he took one’s breath away.
He was tall and graceful, and his face was the most
perfectly sculptured human face I have ever seen. My
girlfriend was shaking so bad, she could hardly sign the
rental form.
In the south of France, you see lots of pretty girls and
good-looking boys, but this lad, with his brown hair and
brown eyes, and elegant suit, was beyond good looking.
There was something almost supernatural about him.
At first, I thought, wow! how beautiful. But
then, I grieved for the torment of his life. A person with
those stunning good looks would suffer endlessly.
All people would ever want is to own a part
of him, they wouldn’t care for who he actually was, or his
subtle human feelings. You see, people usually only pretend
to like beauty, for deep down, they hate it—it assails
their ugliness in the cold light of the truth.
Later that night, while out dancing with my
girlfriend, I saw the young French man in a bar in the
company of some gay males—he was laughing and talking and
at ease with himself.
I felt greatly relieved for his soul. I now knew he was
safe in this lifetime.