The Prodigal Son

I am obsessed with beauty. I like to see beauty in everything, everyone.
... but when life suddenly begins to rear its ugly head, and all I want to do is hide... I am paranoid, completely beside myself with fear.
It's like in the movie Anaconda, King Kong. The travelers see magnificent beauty in everything that surrounds them; when the monsters decide on their appearance, however, the beauty is snuffed out. Life begins. It is a race to survival now; beauty has taken a backseat to the sweet, sweet struggle for life.
Why I describe a struggle as sweet? That's when character and personality are molded; values are quickly placed into a hierarchy, love IS the answer, and life, as we know it, hangs on a delicate balance (and if able to survive, will never be taken advantage of again) - if that is not sweet, what is?
I especially like this picture because it is brooding, dark, mysterious. This is the kind of beauty I want to see. Life not so much as a horror film, but one of a subtle enigmatic alley. It does feel scary, but I cannot but help appreciate how that lamppost gives only a given area of light. And when I step out of that light, I really don't fall off the edge of the earth, I can look back and see what was and continue on to what can be.

P.S.- The Prodigal Son did not have any relation to my post at all. I deemed it appropriate because I was originally a blogger who strayed to Xanga. I thought I'd give blogger a shot again. Why? To start new? Fresh? No. Just for fun :)