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07:07am | Jan 15, '09 | No Comments
I despise perfection about as much as I long for it.
The path to perfection is a fruitless one full of frustration, sadness, and self-loathing. Mostly though, it is full of hatred. Hatred at oneself, and hatred at those for denying the perfection so listlessly sought after. With the aim of absolute rightness, one will undoubtedly find disappointment, for such prizes don’t exist in reality. Unsurprising, this truth, but ignored it always is. The walk to perfection is one never stopping, even with the continued denial of ever reaching the end so tauntingly weaving in sight. The quickest second snatches the freedom away, and one finds themselves lost in another tunnel of darkness searching forever more. The light is simply too appealing to be forgotten, the satisfaction upon realizing such virtue to tantalizing to throw away…
All this I know, yet still I thrive so witlessly after the unattainable. With every feat I recognize myself closer to that apple the barest breath from my fin