Perfection is what everyone strives to achieve. But what is perfection? Is it a woman with meticulous hair without a single strand out of place, makeup put on as if by an artist, and clothes without a single wrinkle? Or a man with millions of dollars, a classic car in amazing condition, and a good looking body? Or is it a woman who raised her children to be happy productive adults and has a husband who's loyal and happy to wake up to her every day? Or a man who lives in a clean nice home with a woman who worships him like he worships her and a job he loves? What is perfection? There's no such thing. Something goes wrong in every person's life no matter what life they live. And yet, everyone is perfect. We all are pure perfection due to our imperfections. We fight to be this image of perfection society has made, yet we already have our own perfect self in each of us. Perfection isn't real, but an illusion of what we already have inside of us. Our own perfection
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My story
Короткий рассказBasically it's a bunch of deep poems I wrote that go with issues I've faced. It's different than anyone else has done so I decided to try it.
