It's Just You and Me (And Everyone Else)

First and foremost, I'd like to congratulate each and every one of you for sticking with me through this stretch of almost unbearable writer's block. Not only is your dedication much appreciated, but quite admirable. Of course, I'll take your beckons and cries for wisdom as an utmost compliment, and I must say, it feels damn good to be back here. But, as you all well know, there are reasons for everything - my absence included. While I can't necessarily pinpoint the intrinsic cause of my temporary abandonment, I've one standing idea. It being the definite lack of inspiration. Rather, let me rephrase, over-thinking the ideas I would normally comment on and mentioning them in candid, trusted conversation. As of late, I've been relaying every possible worthy idea during intellectually stimulating discussions with a person of equal intellect and stature - momentarily eliminating the need for this site. But, never fear, I've been looking and listening for something on which I can impart some form of wisdom - or erratic thought. Whichever comes first, I suppose.

I've decided to stray from the ever political and rebroaden my horizons. Yes, you know what that means - gratuitous oversimplification of life, stress, and every other problem we may seem to have. But, consider me a philosopher, or completely insane, and bear with me. One of the largest quests of man is the search for perfection. We continually seek the physical, mental, and general perfection that quite often is never achieved. Perfection isn't a lofty ideal, as some of you may believe, but the search for perfection (in subsequently all the wrong places), leads us to assume just that. Surrendering to the bitter truth that perfection cannot be attained is not only a sign that you've been completely dooped into actualizing your own faults, but it's unnecessary and can certainly be overcome. The problem, friends, is that our definitions of perfection are wrong - and our visions of everything perfect tear us away from what's really perfect - from what's real.

The problem we all seem to have is that we never quite understand our capabilities. We often sell ourselves short or blow ourselves up (and it's quite obvious which category yours truly falls under). The truth about perfection, that doesn't seem to have been leaked, is that perfection is. Yes - it just is. We need to understand that perfect life, as we'd like to live it, simply does not exist. It never will. If life were made to be completely blissful and jovial and chock full of our ideas of perfection, then we'd never leave Heaven. There would be no point to life. Perfection is flaw, perfection is stress, perfection is fighting, laughing, crying, singing. Perfection is life. We don't know perfection because we can't see it. Our lives will never shape up to the infinite dreams we wish them to be. While some of us more depressed folk simply wish for a better existence, it's never out of reach. Ever. While every circumstance can weigh, push, and dampen our hopes for every reaching a manageable state of being, it's not impossible. What we have is perfect. And if it's not perfect yet - it's getting there.

Don't get me wrong - the last thing I'd intended on doing was telling you to settle with what you have, that it's not going to get any better. That's not my point, nor is it the case. We should never settle when we have any inkling of what could be. And we damn well ought to do everything we can to make that inkling something more - whatever that word may be. I suppose the point of this small post is derivative of a rising fear of stagnant existence. I know, the young and inexperienced of today shouldn't be dealing with such angst - but as history has proven, youth tend to exaggerate everything - everything. Yes, this game of pretending to be twenty years older than we really are does nothing but further us from the perfection we never realize. If you can make sense of that, not only do I applaud you, but, I applaud you (I really have nothing else to give you). To better explain that previous enigma, let me take this opportunity. The processes of aging and living and growing, and the consequent experiences we have during that time, are entirely contingent on our age - our maturity. I don't care if you're eighteen and feel forty-six - you're still eighteen. With that said, your problems should limit themselves to those of eighteen year olds. We all have the fatal inability to handle our problems, and rightly so. No eighteen year old should be able to handle the problems regularly facing our parents and surrounding adults. We grow, we adapt, we change and adjust. It's what we have to do. Perfection is unrealistic unless we do so.

I've decided, after being rudely interrupted on several occasions while writing this, that I've strayed from the main point once again. But, putting full faith in a readership that's never let me down, I'm hoping you can pull it all together and make of it what you will. Perfection is life as we live it now - not as we hope to live it thirty years into our future, or as we've lived it three years in our past. Let's live the lives our ages tell us to live, and though adversity and harm is clear and present, it paves the way to perfection. While I say this you, and I hope to achieve a personal atmosphere (yes, I'm speaking with you, and only you), we need to keep into account that we all live. I can see where you might think perfection has to come at someone else's expense. But, keep in mind; it's not your expense if you don't want it to be. Again, perfection is what we have, not what we had. Let's keep it that way.

(And if it gets too expensive - just charge it).