I[ ' ]m perfect.

One day I told myself:

*Self, today you’re gonna write something kinda wonderful*

I’d fantasise.

*Girls will read this and their lives will change!*

They’d say...

“Wow. This is ACTUALLY what I’ve been looking for; you said exactly what I needed to hear and took the words right out my mouth! Now I’m going to [X] and [Y]. I’m never gonna regret it!”

I will scroll down to see….

“I’ve stopped reading [ A ], un-subbed from [ B  ] and now only follow Gifted and Highly favoured. I’ve even opened two accounts so I can follow you twice!”

And...

“So... you’ve just written like my entire thought process...”

Full of that excitement you get when you wake up and realise it’s a Saturday, I searched for quotes, re-read my favourite blogs, set the Spotify playlist to that goooood neo-soul, drank cups of green tea [apparently it stimulates the brain?] spoke to a special someone, guzzled some Ovaltine biscuits [you can find them in Asda’s ethnic section next to the fufu] and I sat in front of the laptop waiting to create some magic.

I twiddled my thumbs, yeah it was late, but aaaany moment now, my fingers will suddenly spring into action and hammer away as if possessed. So I waited. Re-twisted a twist that needed my immediate attention, because obviously at that moment it became a life priority,

shifted a few things around in my room to get the energy right, burnt some incense, curled my toes and ‘whooosaaa’d.

Then it dawned on me. There were words on the screen. I'd written something. It looked perfect structurally, but it was lacking.  It was foreign to me. 
I pretty much hijacked writing styles of all those already established in the literary world, some philosophical quotes from an anonymous source, and a healthy mixture of intellectual jargon for good measure. So I started again. . . .

Nothing.

*Sigh*


A sound mind prevented me from dashing my laptop off the desk out of frustration.

*But you have a deadline?!?, Come on! ...Ready…steady…Go!*

 Still nothing.

....and if I could have whipped up a Toni Morrison piece I would have. I simply dislike appearing wrong/incorrect/off-key/off-centre/illogical/un-balanced/random/inconsistent/un-intelligent [exhaustive list].

And the funny thing is, I’m often all these things and more, sometimes simultaneously.

I used really have a go at myelf. In fact, I used to thoroughly spell check my Facebook statuses before I posted them (shameful truth). Perhaps that’s slyly on the extreme side, but we’ve been there. Whether it be the 45 minutes extra preening in-front of the mirror just to walk 5 minutes to the local shop (you never know who you'll bump into right?) we secretly cling onto our perception of perfection.

But I/we are not perfect, and the realisation of this made me sit down and accept the fact that: Wow. I’m actually human. Why so serious? Who am I trying to impress? And most importantly, which person that ACTUALLY cares, actually cares?

Relax.

My  mini epiphany was kinda therapeutic. Basic, but it's part of my daily affirmation. I was able to de-clutter and write more freely, this piece being the product of it. Hope you took something from it.

Stay gifted and highly favoured

E XxX.