Basking in Life’s Imperfections

I found this unfinished post in our tumblr queue. I created it on May 30th…and it’s now almost the end of June. My bad. Ironic that I never finished writing it considering the topic. Not sure why I didn’t finish it, maybe something shiny entered my peripherals while I was working, or it might have been that I decided to move to a new apartment (again.) Regardless of the reason, I made the executive decision to leave the post as is. I’m basically allowing you access to the inner workings of my mind, or my soul…



H and I are perfect, but the definition of perfection has some bending room. Thusly, ergo, quid pro quo…our imperfections are just as perfect as our perfections.

I’m into life’s moments where we recognize that we’re human.

I accidentally catapulted my water bottle across the road yesterday, butter fingers, luckily it flew free of hitting anyone. I laughed. People looked at me, some smiled. Imperfect perfection.

Last week I totally gashed open my leg. It was disgusting. But then H noted that I look seriously bad ass at the gym. Imperfect perfection.



That wound on my leg is still healing. I definitely should have gotten stitches.


-C