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.
