Perfection. In the race to achieve this unattainable state we lose who we are, we become cruel, heartless.
And what is perfection? Is it not just an image of so called “beauty” forced upon us by society?
You must look this way, wear these clothes, talk like this. Perfection, or an idea of it, is forced upon us, and we conform.
Flaws and imperfections make us human, and yet we still strive to be perfect, we strive to lose a part of our soul just to gain the approval of others.
The true perfection of man lies not in what man has, but in what man is.
|But what’s on the inside doesn't matter anymore.|
Why would it, when all man strives to do is perfect the outside? And money?
|A means to perfection. A means to an end.|