I judge myself for not being perfect, then I'm remember I'm human.

I am human, I'm not perfect.

Human.

I lived by that standard once. I don't any longer.

I laugh sadly at how I used to be; making excuses for my imperfection.

Perfection is the only thing that matters in this dirty world, this dirty, bloody world.

I live to be perfection. I will be perfection before my immortal soul dies.

I am perfection. Or I will be.

Soon.