Truth and Beauty, Beauty and Truth

[unmaker]

"Talking to you is like having sex."

That's what she said to me on Tuesday. Who she is exactly, I won't say. You might not want to know. Suffice it to say that she isn't on my friend's list and wouldn't be anyone you'd be likely to guess. Anyway, you'd think I'd be flattered. It's probably the sexiest compliment I've ever received, and was

Comments

[outofservice]

I must agree with you on this point. I have had numerous men tell me "god you're beautiful" but am I flattered? not one bit, because I know they dont mean it, they just think im an easy mark and a little bit of compliments will get me to fuck them. keep moving pal.
I believe in love but I think its MUCH more rare than society would lead us to believe. Love doesnt have to ply you with cheap drinks or cheap words but just exists and accepts what just IS

[unmaker]

And see, therein lies another problem. Lying assholes make it more difficult for the rest of us to give a genuine compliment. Suppose someone told you that you were beautiful and meant it. Would you believe him? Or would you shy away, assuming him to be yet another jerk?

In the past I've had considerable trouble convincing girls that I was on the up and up. Intelligent women (which are my preference) tend to be suspicious of pretty words.

[outofservice]

Well I havent actually ever met a man who called me beautiful and meant it, I've THOUGHT they meant it but it turned out later they didnt. so, I wouldnt be able to tell you if I would believe it or not really.
I think a better compliment is to say im fun or smart or funny, those are real things, beauty is just a mask. So pretty words are just that, but a genuine compliment speaks of all the things that the person you are complimenting holds dear.

[cliffsname]

As I told Brian a post or two ago, go back and reread our discourse on love.

But I should add to this mini-thread that as a well-brought-up Southern boy, I can weave compliments as the ancient poets did, quickly and without thought, simply to show someone my affection for their company.

Plus, I tend to believe that there aren't enough compliments in the world, so I try to make sure to say nice things.

[museumgirl]

I don't find your post one bit cynical -- there is a great distinction between pointing out a sad reality and being cynical. It's true, language is a tool and as such can be used in ways both helpful and destructive and when it comes to emotions and romance, often it is used to another person's detriment (there -- was that cynical?). People, for good or bad, are smart, learning creatures and if there is a tool at their disposal, they will use it to their own advantage. Unfortunately, knowing and recognizing this intellectually still doesn't take the sting out of having actual first-hand experience of this abuse of language. I'm sorry that she was disingenuous. If it makes you feel any better, there are some of us out there who long ago realized the dangerous of words, words, words and try to choose them carefully -- at least in the very sensitive moments when they count the most.

[unmaker]

It didn't sting me any. Not this time. She set off a slew of warning flags during the conversation. I was well prepared. Still, I can't help but appreciate the compliment itself: It was engineered specifically for me. That fact alone is somewhat flattering, I suppose.

And yes, I know, as you know, the danger of words. I use certain words quite sparingly and only with measured application. I say what I feel, I feel what I say, and I ask for no more than I offer in return.

[museumgirl]

You're a very wise soul, and of course, how can I preach to a writer about the perils of language! As a side note, I do love your user pic.

[unmaker]

Thanks. I can't take credit for it though - neither for the poetry nor for the animation. :-) I know the author of neither.

[tragicallyjulia]

"She was trying to manage me, trying to elicit a specific response."

Repulsion is definitely an appropriate reaction.

I was going to ramble on longer... but I'm having a mental pause, so instead I will borrow a phrase from my father:
"I concur."