Dearest Millennial,
I recently found out you fell in love, again. I’m glad. But tell me-
Is it her high cheek bones, or her defined jaw-line?
Is it the bee-stung lips, or the deep, alluring eyes?
Is it the poetry in her walk? or is it her body?
Or is it the universe?
This scientific letter on millennial-love might not interest you. It may puzzle you. You also may scroll down, regard it as utter bullshit. However it, if effective, will lead you to question yourself.
What do you see in her? Do you see her and see math as beautiful as the Euler equation. Do you see her eyes and wonder how, how deep they are, is it the infinity they hold in them? Don’t you see the electricity she has running inside of you? She has your molecules changing. Every time she gets closer to the ground she speeds up the Earth. She is literally the centre of the universe, don’t you know, millennial? She is the beauty of the rainbow, not just the seven colors, millennial, she is everything that splits into more beauty, and more beautiful therein, she is the centre of her rainbow, always. She is the equations, and the numbers, and the infinities and the everything you do not understand, millennial. Her beauty you will never grasp.
Look at her, she is a star. She is everything a star is, literally everything. Tell her that. Tell her that, millennial. She is everything the universe is made up of, she is the universe, she is the universe trying to understand itself, or herself rather. Don’t you see the constellations in her, the bright blue and red nebulae in her eyes, don’t her vaso-dilating cheeks remind you of all what life is, pumping, ethereal, transient. Doesn’t her attraction seem Black-holishh,and journeys with her worm-holishh? Tell her how beautiful she is, she is all of physics and she is all of mathematics, she is all of reason and she is all of the unknown. She is the echo in a vacuum, she is electromagnetic. She is the harmony in the chaos. She is the butterfly that causes the rainstorm. She is the reason that in a life of scientific method and reason you see God in her, she is the truest, most honest image of God. Godly is the look she casts upon you, with her iris’ flaming all the fire of within and puts you on a pedestal and takes you off the escalator of time and for a moment, an infinitesimal yet infinitely long moment, makes you both god-like, light-like, such that time as felt by the normies, the commoners, does not pass for you, she takes you into her universe, her non-newtonian universe, unbounded by the tyranny of time and cause and effect, her relativistic universe where time dilates and warps, it bends and distorts (Silva). She is the cosmos in its entirety, from its inception to its death.
Another thing, don’t photograph her millennial, absolutely do not snapchather. Take a photo, set a vintage filter. Let yourself feel postalgic, to be nostalgic for the present while it is happening. Everything will pass, let her grow old, let the moments swing by, watch the pendulum oscillate and, in your mind, her voice reverberate. Live her, cherish her. Devour her moments, the fact that the time will not come back should be the reason you treasure her, live her as she dies. Elongate the honeymoon phase to an infinity. Cry at her beauty, let the tears stream out because she is the kind of beautiful that makes you cry.
See all this in her and not sexy hair and en pointe’ make up. Taste the stars in her and not fruit lip balm. Feel the universe that surrounds her and not her skin. Be real, be transcendent Millennial. After all, she, like life, is happening for you, not happening to you.
Love,
The Scientist.