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Out of our imperfect desires for a fleeting perfection we miss out on all of the nuances that many mark as flaws in those around us.Those flaws teach us about ourselves and how to better see the person that we continue to fashion ourselves into. I find this to be a very precious exercise that I still humbly struggle with. Revealing oneself to the world in fragmented language is a cryptic method of perpetuating distance. Distance from opportunities to “jump at the chance” or what you have identified as a ‘hopeless high”. The irony in this is that, we have such a thing pillared into us and our lives, that is just that, love. How ironic is it that love has become the elixir for so many yet most continue to taste from tainted wells? Or for others, they find unhealthy ways to augment themselves, in a sense, emotionally contorting themselves into unrecognizable beings. Why would someone do that? You already know the answer for the mythic quest for not only perfection, but the perfect love. It is so funny to write this now at a period of my life when so much is uncertain and unproven around me, but the process has already begun.  When the call is made for all us to stand, not for what most are seasoned to imagine, what will each of us do? This call has no pearly gates or masons. This call is of a grassroots nature. It calls for us to dig deep within ourselves like we never have before. It will be painful, yet when it is all is done (which never truly happens); it will be one of the best therapies that you can self-inflict. It is called, when performed with honest effort and struggle, critical self-reflection. The more you dig the more that you realize that not only is perfection fleeting but much of what has been defined as our core is as well. We are mannequins of social norms and cultural habits that make no sense. We are seekers of quests that have no treasure(s), let alone no end. We are broken or better yet compartmentalized as if our blemishes are left hidden from plain sight. But we still trend along a path that leads us to what you have described so precisely, “wasteful moments”. I surely know that I have accumulated my own fair share of these in my Ulysses like journey. Does this make me insane that I strive for those things that are fleeting? I find myself now asking those questions as if existential processes were valued social currency. Social currency that is found in goodness does not seem to contain my ingredients. Yet again, another ironic element of torment for the wayward soul to be forced to endure, accept, and/or fight against with limited support and opportunities for success. All of these terms are subjectively defined and categorized for purposes of maintaining what is needed to be maintained as in the status-quo. So is what we actually seek, by the standards of most, a perfect norm? Normativity is much of what perfection is cast to be in the forms of shape, weight, hair texture, height, intelligence, and host of others varied criteria. Perfection is found in a myriad of volatile combinations with the hearts, minds, ands souls of women and men often driving the mechanism. Cautiously, we channel the energy you have identified into achieving the unachievable. But isn’t that what makes for a pseudo-perfection. “I’m accomplished” or “I’ve got mine”; which could amount to anything under the sun or beneath the Earth. So where does that leave us? Where does it leave me? At the moment it leaves me with heartache, confusion, and a desire to fight. Fight what? I have no clue beyond what is inside of me. Is that what perfection is if all that we have inaccurately labeled as such before was unable to live up to the standard? Or are we just flawed from the start? Using skewed assessment techniques and dishonest practices in which we fool ourselves into believing that we are what we hope that we are? I got it. Perfection is an empty vessel with no desire to be filled…