Monday, 18 April 2011


Perfect. Everyone wants it. Everyone strives to be perfect, to be someone they're not, to change for other people. And quite frankly, it's just sad. Seeing all the inncocent children, knowing that one day they'll be facing teenage dramas, and indeed changing themselves. When you look at fresh-faced year sevens, you know in a few years they will undoubtedly be lying in their room, crying over so and so, weeping over whats-his-face, and eventually disolve into a senseless pile of nothingness. Perfect makes people do things, things which make them unhappy, but hey, its fine because it means you'll be perfect. Honestly, I can't imagine anything worse than being perfect. The fun,the spontaneity would just be gone out of life. Sure, being happy all the time would be nice, but being sad makes us human. Having emotions is just brilliant! It may not seem so, when you're bawling in your bedroom over what who-said-what, or when you're screaming your head off but can you imagine how dull life would be without them!? Being imperfect is just great in my opinion. Right now, this second as I write this, I feel just brillaint. Whether it's because its my first blog post, or being I'm watching Michael McIntyre, or because Beth is giggling weakly at Michael but I feel content. These are the moments in life which are worth living for, the ones that stick with you, because they mean something. Perfect takes all that away. Perfect is cold, hard, shiny plastic. I may not have a perfect life but at least I'm happy, and at the end of the day thats all you can really ask for.