Sometimes I get stuck on the idea of being perfect. As if perfection would be the only way for life to figure it self out. If I was to be just as perfect as I could be, according to my visions, all my troubles would disappear. I would not ever have to explain my actions nor my words because they would already be so forgiven. I would not have to step back when being unsure of an argument because I would know that it would be just what was right. I would wake up in the morning with nothing pulling me back and I would go to bed at night with no anxiety in mind. I would be mean to boys since I already have their respect. And I would never compare myself to other pretty girls.
.... but then again, what makes perfect?