“Shoot for the moon. Even if you miss it you will land among the stars.” – Les Brown
I have a theory. Or rather, a theory that I strongly believe in. I’ve heard it countless times, we’ve all heard it countless times. It has to do with difference, criticism and opinion. No matter what we do or who we are, there is alway room for improvement.
There is a reasonable reason why teachers barely give out a perfect score, why there always seems to be a someone who dislikes your work, why the controversy just never ends. It is purely due to the fact that no one and nothing is perfect, and simply that no one and nothing ever will be! It’s the ugly truth. But if you think about it you’ll find, like I did slowly, that perfection is impossible. It’s a strong word, something that can hardly be defined. It’s unrealistic, not obtainable and unachievable.
Perfection has no one true meaning. Everyone has a different perception of perfect. “One man’s meat is another man’s poison.” There will always be differing opinions, at whatever situation there is. After all, is a zebra black with white stripes or white with black stripes?
Everyone has a point of diminishing return, a limit to ensure the joy and pleasure is still taken out of the activity. But I’m not suggesting that one should be satisfied easily. It is awesome to have the spirit to push yourself a little more than you have before. It’s important to believe that aim high, since all realities started of as a dream. A small speck of hope, a tiny ray of possibility. Like the slow blooming of a yellow flower bud, the process is an agony, but the knowing that a bright blossom might flourish it’s pretty petals at you is a drive on its own.
Today at lunch, my friend and I were watching our buddy drinking a bowl of corn soup while listening to another companion talk about PDA – a strange yet common topic of our age group :P Once it had been mentioned, something clicked in my head as I watched my friend clutch onto the bowl of hot creamy broth. Handling it like a baby, caressing its plastic smoothness. The way she brought it to her lips and slurped up…
“Chloe’s cuddling her soup.” I said, followed by laughter and a witty creation of my friend’s and mine.
This is the step by step of our train of thoughts. Basically hoping to be an example that everything can be improved upon. In the case of this ‘model’, which was written within a brief five minutes, it shows that everything can be at least added upon, whether for the better or for the worse.
Once upon a time, there was a girl named Chloe. She cuddled with soup. The end.
Once upon a time, in a faraway land named Yee Whore, there was this beautiful young maiden with long, lanky legs and a graceful stance by the name of Chloe. She had a bowl of creamy, corn soup that she enjoyed cuddling with. The very end.
Once upon a time, in a fantastic, mystical and magical faraway land by the gracious name of Yee Whore, there lived a beautiful young maiden of a mere 17 years. She had many suitors, due to her long, lanky legs, her flowing, fair hair, her beautiful voice, and a graceful stance by the name of Chloe. She owned a large, wooden bowl filled to the brim with creamy, corn soup that she always hugged to her flat chest and kissed with her coral pink lips. But alas, she had no spoon, even her many suitors couldn’t get her one. And that, my wonderful friends, concludes the story of Chloe and her bowl of corn soup.