unicorns in my head

written after last meeting with my FYP advisor:

What if I found a unicorn right now?
Would it make everything ok?
I would just look at it. It would be my personal saviour. In its perfections it would dissolve those imperfections around it. It would simply be pure beauty. When I look at images of unicorns they hold a promise to me, they keep their silent word that I’m safe. That there is a lot more good out there, much more reason to be happy than sad.
I get angry when I see people not appreciating the beauty. It is as if sometimes I feel they don’t see the beauty in me.
Do I dare take them out of their endless glass cage; behind the immobile, the still? Put them into one much different, where they can be indignified -polluted?
I speak perhaps like I am saying they are pure as is told of unicorns. But they are, not because they are white, or they were said to be so (a symbol of purity) but they are intrinsically pure. They just are.
They’ve been said to be aggressive, to be dangerous to anyone but a maiden, but I don’t think they are. They are merely protective- of beauty and don’t want us to ruin them.
Maybe my love for unicorns is just like my love of stars- always watching them from afar, always smiling at their existence, but never able to reach them. Perhaps even not wanting to reach them.
(stars will burn you to ashes)
And I don’t want to reach the unicorn because I’m afraid.
Afraid either of being disappointed that the real thing is just overrated and over beautified by images that are results of dreams of wishes, or afraid that I will no longer be able to dream or suspend my belief.
It’s true that the unicorns I “see” in my mind are relatively similar in appearance, but seeing the one true form would destroy them.
Maybe that’s a harsh word- not destry them, but make them sterile, and merely “bad-copies”..
Merely the mental rantings of someone who has lost all core meaning.. a madman making ugliness out of beauty.
Maybe I love horses because in my head they’re the closest I can get to their “imaginary” cousin without “burning”, without fear of disappointment
But unlike something in my head, I cannot control my encounters – and when I am “turned down” by a horse, when I am ‘rejected’ so to speak, when my care is not wanted or needed, my affection scorned, I take it badly. I feel that the beauty within me does not meet the required level… That I’m not up to par….