our version of perfect
i think we all know that there is no such thing as perfect, that everyone and everything, as amazing and awesome as they seem, are full of imperfections. But we cast aside the reality that imperfections can exist in something we admire. And when we see those imperfections come out, we criticize them. We criticize them so much that we end up hating the things and people we love. And what is love exactly? A feeling that envelops us so much that it clouds are rationality? Or is it a feeling that allows us to grow stronger and let us face any problems we encounter? Who the fuck knows. i don’t, thats for sure. today i was reading the perks of being a wallflower and in it the main character’s teacher tells him that “people accept the love that they think they deserve”. I can’t agree more with that statement. We all have superiority complexes, even if we don’t wanna admit it. In our own minds we think that its us against the world, trying to figure out whats right for ourselves and whats wrong. And isn’t that in itself a perfectionist ideal? Trying to find the things and people we truly feel are perfect? Ignoring the fact that they will come with imperfections. I don’t know if any of this makes sense or not, and i kinda don’t care. I want whoever reads this to know exactly what i’m talking about but i doubt that will happen. If someone does, then for me at least; they are perfect, along with all their imperfections. Perfectly imperfect: my kind of conundrum.
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rordiceus posted this
