Don't worry, we all fall hard.

I had come to realize that I want to be perfect. It's rather unrealistic, but it's definitely something I could wing, you know, not having to deal with the whole trial-and-error business, and just doing everything right. Wouldn't that be the life? No matter how good someone does their thing, you'd do it better. No matter how well that chef baked their pies, you'd make pies three times as delicious. You'd be a machine, almost; your veins would be the circuits, life's impulses would be your signals, and everything would flow naturally.

Yeah, that sounds nice, I guess.

But I'm not a machine. I wasn't ever proud of it, but I've learned something over the past year, and that particular life lesson dawned on me for the longest time before I came to the realization that I really don't want to be a machine. Just today, I had played a basketball game; I'm currently a part of an intramural basketball league, and the ride is rather bumpy. We lost by a million, and I'm not exaggerating. I'm no superstar, and my team consists of rather independent guys, wanting glory for themselves. I, wanting to be perfect (oh, me), told myself that it was only a game, nothing to cry over. Although I didn't cry, I did feel a twinge of anger, because we hadn't won a game, yet. It was frustrating to think that I was allowing myself to accept defeat over and over again, and admitting when our chances were only a lost cause earlier than I should have been admitting it.

But it's the small things much like a basketball game that make you realize that you don't want to be perfect. What would you live for? Living to show the world how awesome you know you are? We had lost that basketball game, but if we were perfect, victory wouldn't have been as sweet as when we'll win that game down the road as we are, simply human with hopes and dreams. If we were perfect, what purpose would those elements of our lives serve? Every hope we might have would be fulfilled, every dream just another moment in our lives. Do we want to be a machine? I'd rather fall hard, and find the strength within myself to push myself upright once more, because I know we're all going to fall hard. If I were a machine, I wouldn't have any reason to let a twinge of anger drive myself to be the best I can be in this world. There are hundreds of paths to follow, to run upon, to fall occasionally, and to get back up because you want to keep going, because you know that deep within you, there's the will to write that next lyric, the will to finish the job, the will to grab that extra rebound, the will to take a stand against what others might think of you, and prove to everyone, even yourself, that you can be what you want to. It all boils down to how much you're willing to fall to achieve your goals and dreams. Personally, I'd let myself run amok with my fear, my anger, my guilt, my passion, and my love, if it means having something to live for.

But yeah. Being perfect would most definitely be a relief.