Flabbergasted enough, I have kinda recognised that I do actually need to seek perfection in myself.
Horrid truth that is, so much so that I refuse to let anything penalise me or dismay my spirit. If it happens, I should jolly well deserve a gruelling reprehension by any earthling.
The fact is, it is probably just an avenue of solace I need to reside in, so as to make myself seem perfect in a fog of demerits and shambles. Perhaps afterall, I'm just a pathetic being living on this earth just hankering for life's perfections but will never come to terms with it.
Because life's never perfect. Yes, it must be it. When you yield something, you forfeit something; and this makes complete good sense until today.
I do not know if I should attempt to learn being less merciless to myself, because at every turning point in my life, I should be moving forward indomitably and fearlessly. I detest being stranded dejectedly.
How long will this be? Do I really need to seek perfection? I need to go on to know.
