It feels like watching all over again the still painting we saw in class “Vanitas” living again the concept of perfection and beauty; all which seem so clear to everybody, easy to explain and just another adjective. The poem “The Perfect Life” by John Koethe demonstrated how perfection is a matter of perception. His life seems plain, not at all interesting just a steady line of monotonous living. Nothing he can do to change it, just be comforted by the fact that only few are the people that do not feel his way, that have decided to step out of the routine.
With time you finally understand how little you have accomplished in life and what once felt like merits now seems to be just another meaningless event. You wasted your valuable time reaching the bar of perfection. But..
Was it you who set the bar?
Did you chose where and what to aim for?
It no longer appears to be your goals that you were pursuing, you were wrapped into society’s idea of perfection. What can be more wonderful and extravagant to have a life full of happiness and articles that fill you with joy, but if at the end "what seems beautiful and strong becomes an object of indifference."
Does anything ever matter?
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