Fuck Perfection
February 2020
I remembered myself being a happy girl. I didn't believe that I would be be moody or sad for any reasons, for a long amount of time. I didn't believe in insomnia and depression, because I have never gotten those things. I knew those things are around us, but I didn't believe it would happen to me.
Looking at my situation, I still feel like denying it. Maybe it isn't that.
People think about suicide, about ways to end their own lives. Some people would literally try it out, some would imagine doing it every single day, because who knows, if it may really come true?
Until recently, I encountered a few of worst moments of my young life. It felt as if it was never going to be fine anymore. It felt suffocating, as if it would shut me down, until I couldn't do anything else, other than feeling explosion in my brain and heart.
But out of it all, I am glad that I can come in peace with pains in daily lives now. I can even smile in people's tears. I know those people are not alone because I have been there too. And more importantly, I know I am not alone.
The more scarier part is when I'm looking at a world that everyone else is better than me and leading a damn good lives. It is quite reassuring to see people that are not perfect.
So I want to celebrate in the imperfections of humanity. I want to see beauty in scars, in heartbreaks, in tears, in sleepless nights and chaotic dreams. I used to think that scars are overrated, before I was injured. I thought if it was me flying in the sky, I wouldn't be the one falling down. If I ever fall in love, I wouldn't be the one picking broken pieces and leaving with a broken heart. But dramas belong to everyone, and it is not overrated at all. Perfections are overrated. Perfect relationships are overrated. Perfect lives are overrated. So fuck the perfect.