Thursday, April 28, 2011


It's the imperfections that make us who we are. Why is it that I can accept and even love other peoples' imperfections much easier than my own? It's my imperfection, or flaw, of wanting to be perfect that has led to my "destruction" in the past. Will this time be any different? Why can't I convince myself that I will never truly be perfect and that's just simply okay?

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