It's certainly been a while. I never once forgot about this site- the anonymous venting and rambling it offers is constantly tempting, and there have been many times when I've almost come back, screaming into the void with a hoarse voice about whatever I find unappealing about this world (trust me, there's a lot), but today things are different. I want to speak directly to you, the reader, about something that I've seen in the past five weeks since I last updated this page.
It's 4:25 in the morning where I currently live. It's beginning to get colder here. My home is infested with ants- even now, they crawl on my bed and clothes. Medication hasn't worked in a while; there's no point in taking it. I'll be up for a few more hours, at the very least. The terrible, faulty heater I set up beeps and hums in ways it shouldn't. Things here are definitely not perfect, which is something I enjoy. I like these little inconveniences, as strange as it sounds. A machine is not truly being used for what it is designed to do if it does not have at least a few parts in need of repair, a few faulty lights, a few unwanted noises. I believe a perfect life is one with flaws (what a paradox !).
There is, of course, a balance- have zero problems, and life becomes soulless, monotonous, bland. Have too many, and you feel like you're neck-deep in shit with no way out. Real living is not a perfectly clean home, a nice car, and a group of friends you only occasionally connect with through social media. I feel happiest when things are not conventionally perfect. I'm sitting on an unmade bed at nearly five in the morning, writing genuine things coming straight from my heart. My hair is messily tied into a ponytail, I'm wearing a shirt that's too small for me and pants that are too big and listening to the incessant beeping of a machine that performs its sole task, despite all of its flaws. There is not an aspect of my life right now that is not genuine- at least at this very present moment- I am not doing anything that I would not truly enjoy doing.
This is such a strange topic for me to talk about, to be completely honest with you. Outside of this little bubble I control, it seems that almost nothing is genuine. I see it in our conversations with one another, the media and art we consume, and the perception of perfection that we as a society have. I propose to you that perfection is not cleanliness, material wealth, or stability, but rather the opposite- the quirks and the problems are what make life worth living, for they are unexpected little faults in our lives that make us unique to our peers and ourselves, and provide a unique sense of fulfillment that an absence of problems never can. The world outside is so ugly yet so beautiful.
There is a large parking lot near where I live. I walk through it multiple times a week. It is broadly disgusting, a vast sea of grey asphalt and gravel being used by no one and for nothing. But the small divots and cracks in the asphalt that somehow foster life make it a bit beautiful. If there were no flowers growing in the parking lot, it would, by definition, be considered perfect- yet it would be soulless. I am not suggesting that the parking lot is perfect by any means; I am simply suggesting that the presence of imperfections- or in the eyes of some, problems- make it less ugly.
The world is so beautiful if you see it for its "imperfections"- the little acts of rebellion by nature and man. It is so, so, so beautiful.
finished as eyes begin closing, sun begins rising. <3
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