If I would be perfect I would have the hair of Isla Fischer, the body of Keira Knightley, the brain of Ziad Youssef Fazah (polyglot* who speaks more than 58 languages). I would sing like an angel, be nice to everyone, always be in a good mood, always think of others first. I would be fashionably dressed in Chanel and know how to cook exotic delicacies and my home would look like a page in a glossy magazine and its library would be huge. I would have long nails and only wear heels from Jimmy Choo. I would be comfortable with myself and never experience jealousy. I would have a great job and a big circle of friends and my lips would always be red. I would escape abroad every now and then and know everything about art. I would only like healthy food (or alternatively my stomach would be a miracle). My breasts would be perfect, my thighs would be lean and my face would have that eternal peachy glow. My hair would always be in place and my mascara would never smudge. I could talk about everything with a fascinating smile but without upsetting anyone.
It's probably about accepting oneself: accepting that we are all imperfect and that's what makes us interesting to others and even attractive to some. All those scars and imperfections are like road signs from our lives, showing how we got to this point where we are now. And maybe real life is more fun than a fantasy world where neither struggling nor challenges exist. In real life you can expect the unexpected.
More importantly, when we aim for perfection we rarely do it for our own sake, in our vanity we seek to impress others.
A good friend of mine has a very inspiring outlook on these things (read: life): she wants to do things better because she wants to be happier and healthier. She learns from her mistakes and she tries not to repeat them... there is no need to be perfect, as long as she is happy with herself.
Side note: Today has probably been the most awful day (weatherwise) that I've seen since moving to Spain... and it's absolutely wonderful. Love the rain, the thunder and the smell of (imagined?) freshness. And I have a fluffly little thing curled up at my feet.
Y al final quiero decirle a Sebastián que leo sus comentarios y los agradezco mucho aunque nunca contesto nada.
Pero bueno, ahora voy a contestar a los últimos dos: hablo unos idiomas y entiendo algunos más, pero el portugués no es uno de ellos. Y sí... cambié el layout porque quería algo más otoñal, algo que fuera más "adecuado" pero bueno... la verdad es que el azul me gustó mucho más y este me parece un poco tonto.