The future
I am prepared for what must be,
or so I wish for, hopefully.
Not allowing myself to think,
or I will find myself on the brink,
of anxiety to insanity.
My clothes are prepared for battle
and have been set out with care,
and will ne’er be worn by travel,
or stringent and murky air.
But I pray against the pinpricks of hate,
for I wish not to fall to my fate,
and to grabble for what is too late
Perfection
One thing I always like to reflect upon is that the goal of most people is to be perfect. To look perfect, to ace every test, to have no trouble doing anything at all. Sounds like a dream? No, maybe a nightmare. When a person would be perfect, we would begin to loose ourselves. Loose what makes us all unique. We would first grow bored by being able to do anything, and would slowly grow more and more agitated with life. Boredom would need something to help relieve it, but you couldn’t… because everything is perfect.
Perfection also scares me. What will I have to get rid of in myself to become a perfect being? I like myself the way I am, and I like my crazy quirks. Sure there are some parts I hate, but why would I try to get rid of what makes me myself? Every single choice you make affects who you are going to become, so why would you keep trying to remain perfect. Faults are found in everything, and it is what helps us grow and learn
Not Necessarily in Between 