I never wanted to be described as pretty. People have told me upon meeting how pretty I was, and I despised it. I didn't want to be pretty. I did not want to be crushed and molded into that empty term; pretty.
I wanted to move mountains and dance on the stars. I wanted to spray paint on the moon. I wanted intelligence and courage, and wit and charisma. I was a novel, not a page.

then one day I finally realized that I could be both. we all could.
and that's how I live now.
we are all pretty. we all are made of stardust and memories and courage and charisma.
we are.