perfection lives through ignorance

Perfection does not lead you to oblivion, it gets you closer to it. Doesn’t matter how long you practiced it, you will fall short as long as excellence chases you.

It isn’t naïve to believe am not perfect, no one is. When people say ‘I am Perfect’, it means the individual is good at something that you are not. He is better, probably much better, but isn’t God. You are good at something he almost doesn’t practice but you don’t tell him. You either don’t care or you can’t. You are mortal.

I say ‘am perfect’ 100 times in a day. The other person across doesn’t respond, not because he isn’t perfect but he fears that revealing the core definition of perfection might self-inflict a sense of animosity towards the integration of human behaviour. Saying ‘I am’ is much easier than saying ‘I am not’.

Nothing is perfect, at the sub conscious level. Work without policies, roads without rules, night without day, shade without trees, achievements without failures. All of these is something we all would like to happen but the tide is never on your side, so is the story here.

Perfection has no alibi. You can be near prefect, be the champion in what you do, encapsulate theories through the palm of your hand and be a master story teller. But, yet, still, no alibi. No persuasion. No stimulants.

Random genius, an act of isolated phenomena, an occurrence coming out from lady luck, camouflage, acts out of prejudice. None is perfection.

Being despicable isn’t an invited proposition, never with perfection. But can glide over, when required. Not inane, but certainly susceptible.

Yes. I agree. My days are far away, and reachable. 

Published by lifeoholic

Flamboyance meets me, and I could be contagiously luring. It kind of comes off in my writing, as my stories of passion and indulgence unfold.

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