Nobody is perfect. It's the one sentence you hear everyday. If they tell you that they are perfect, they are absolutely wrong. There is something going on under that rug. They just don't want to tell you.
I, on the other hand, despise that word. Every time the word "perfect" comes out of someone's mouth in a positive or negative way, I will just turn the other way or cuss the other person out. It just sounds like a word that shouldn't have existed in the dictionary at all. Just because a person doesn't meet your expectations, doesn't mean you have to force this so called perfection on them. It's ridiculous.
Even though no one is perfect, I do at times beat myself on the inside, trying to fit that nonexistent category.
I am one of those people that doesn't like making mistakes. I try my best to never ever make any of them. It's not regarding any particular things. No matter what I'm doing, I try my best not to make any mistakes. I think it's somewhat of an emotional thing. But either way, it's a daily struggle with me.
I am very observant over everything around me. That's one of the greatest gifts of being a writer. We pay attention to every single detail. We make sure nothing gets left out. And because of that, I make sure everything is put together nicely. In the beginning, I feel confident over whatever it is I'm doing. There is nothing that's going to upset me.
Then unexpectedly, one or possible two mistakes are being addressed to me. It's just a simple stuff that can be fixed in just a few seconds, but I feel completely upset on the inside that I didn't catch it. I thought I had my eye on everything, and it turns out that I missed a few things. You may not be able to tell by looking at my face, but I'm completely mad myself. I am beating myself up on the inside repeatedly. I'm not going to do anything distructive physically, but I am emotionally beating myself up. It's a sad thing to hear, but I'm not going to lie, saying I don't let the little mistakes I make affect me.
Nowadays, I am beginning to adjust to the fact that no one is perfect. It's still a struggle, but I am doing my best to overcome it. I guess that's what it means being an imperfect human. Life is truly something unexplainable.