In a perfect world we think we’d have it all. But this is as far from the truth as is the likelihood of a perfect world ever existing. Each other’s wishes would instantly collide, crash and burn and all we’d be left with is chaos.
Perfection in itself is too abstract and too ideal a word.An illusion of truly epic proportions and a lie we keep repeating to glorify something or someone that exceeds the mundane by even a fraction. The notion of perfection approximates, in its implausibility, that of truth. It exists but you can’t define it, it breathes but you’ve never seen it exhale. It is shown to you but only in samples and examples, never in its pure form.
Much like a deity, you believe in it, but have never actually witnessed it. A blind(ing) faith.
It could be argued that in our pursuit of it, however, we may become better, stronger, happier; or, we could end up losing both our minds and ourselves. I wrote a while back that perfection is in the eye of the beholder, and I believe this is the only way we can really perceive it: relatively.
But instead of attempting to understand it, we put it on a pedestal weaved by a web of utterly selfish, self-absorbed and self-imposed convictions we call happiness and revel in its glorious and fickle unattainability.
All hail the human race…