Nyaahhh, perfection. I’m not big on perfection. I once followed a strict disciplined life in an effort to perfect myself: to shed all the filth and dross and become shining beacon of light. Not only did I tire of it, I tired of the other people striving for perfection. Hiding any ‘sin’ you might have. Never feeling good enough. I had decades of being made to feel I’m not good enough.
Mae West just popped in; “One day I looked at all the drinking, smoking and men in my life and I was filled with shame and guilt so I gave them up”
“But you still drink and smoke and run after men.”
“Yes, I gave up shame and guilt.”
Then there is house work. No perfection here. I can’t stand perfection in housework. Its a sign of insanity. An uptightness of the anus. I am retired and live by myself so I know that people who keep their house that clean must do it all the time. or hire someone. I’m no slob but this place will never, ever be perfectly clean.
Nature is perfect. Messy, unpredictable, hopefully self-sustaining. . . perfection.
Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “perfection.’” Use it any way you like.
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