text: There was once a man so delicately handsome. He possessed a face of the Gods- so boyish and beautiful that women fell in love by looking at him, opening their hearts at once. This boy was worshipped from an early age. Every female who laid eyes on him squeezed his cheeks, squealed with joy, lavished praise upon him. When this boy went to school, he surrounded himself with girls- too soft and sensitive to play with the boys. For, he didn't want to play sport, didn't want to 'earn' the respect of the other boys; He just wanted to be marvelled at and admired by the young ladies. When this boy became an adult, he couldn't concentrate on a thing. All he cared about was his own reflection and the attention it attracted. Why study at college, he thought, when my face affords me so much? Why strain and struggle like the other men- ugly, hairy peasants! And so he became a dropout, a drunk, a wanderer. He went from liason to liason, letting women worship him, while any sense of purpose evaporated from his heart. As time went on, he grew melancholy, empty. He began to hate himself, hate those who smothered him with compliments and kisses. He began to hate beauty and the physical world. And so he turned his back on it. He locked himself in his bunker for years, never seeing sun and talking only to himself, like a mad man. In those years he refused to care for his appearance. He rarely showered or brushed his teeth, and didn't shave once. He became an unkempt, ugly yeti. When he did go out for supplies, people made faces of revulsion and moved away quickly. At first, it hurt his soft heart, but then he began to love it. For, it was only then, for the first time in his life, that he could see himself through God's eyes and not the prying eyes of admirers. As he got more unkempt, more revolting to the point where he didn't think he could get uglier, he started to see God; he started to feel depth in his soul. He prayed night and day in a state of total bliss; he had never felt so content. After months of prayer, he started to see possibilities for a new life. "I want to live for truth, for depth. I want to connect with people's souls- nothing more!" He exclaimed. It was then that he became determined to re-enter society, to renounce his renunciation of the physical world. Now thirty-one and past his youth, he decided to shave and groom himself for the first time in years. "I can't go into the world looking like a derelict," he thought, "I must take at least a little pride". As he cut his dirty, out of control beard, however, the horrifying reality- a reality that he hadn't even contemplated- revealed itself. For he had thought that, now at thirty-one years of age, his face would have lost a lot of it's beauty- that the natural ageing process would have relegated it to an unremarkable face of a man close to middle age. But, as he clipped and clipped, his worst nightmare was realized. After many years and under all that hair, his face hadn't aged a day- it was still the glowing, godlike sculpture it had always been- arguably even more beautiful than before, as the beard and his reclusion had protected it from the blemishes of the sun. Now it glowed with a strikingness that was, like the sun, almost unbearable to look at for more than a short period. As he stared back at the chizzled visage that he had longed to lose, it seemed to taunt him and goad him. His passions were stirred; the familiar feelings of lust filled his entire body once again, like an old friend setting foot in his house and picking up a conversation from years ago. He called out to God but couldn't find him. For God and his beautiful face couldn't coexist, and the latter had totally eclipsed the former. The lust had just about totally engulfed him by now, and the prayers of recent months felt like a vivd dream that hadn't even occured. "Ah, to hell with God!" He shouted with a violent, lustful passion. "Why would I need God when I am in fact a God in human form! Just look at me" He looked again into the mirror at his superior physiognomy. "Surely this is the work of God himself. In this face, God has entrusted me with his spirit, his powers. God has elected me above the rest of our species. I alone have been given the permission to go forth in any way I please; With the powers of this face, God has essentially told me that anything I do is warranted, that any impact I make on people, they should feel grateful for." And with that, the dangerously handsome man left his house, intent on deception and manipulation. "Who needs God when one's face surpasses heaven itself!" He laughed, as the sunshine hit his bare cheeks for the first time in years.