There are details, important, secretive details. Details that prefer to stay unknown, that refuse to be known.
Staying unknown allows them to float about freely, keeping in time with what each mind conjures the pictures it paints with its ambiguity.
Once details are known, the ideal picture that was etched into your consciousness is now scorched and ripped into jagged and misshapen pieces. These pieces of the nonexistent painting portrayed an image you hid behind.
Now the imperfect image you thought was perfect and large enough to hide you can no longer hide you. It lays on the dirty floor next to the grotesquely flawed details you tried to accept as perfect. You accepted them as perfect to justify their protection. By doing so, you hoped to find perfection within yourself. But with the revelation of their true nature, you saw your own.
You saw your lack of symmetry, you saw your weaknesses. You saw yourself as clay that still needs molding. You clean up the pieces of your once perfect cover and hope you can become as perfect as you believed it to be.
I hope you will never reach that perfection. I hope you realize you are perfect as an imperfect being and you will never stop trying to perfect that imperfect nature.
