Though
perfection, not peculiarity, preoccupies humans. We obsess over our
imperfections, accentuate our believed perfections. Or near-perfections, for
what is perfection but an ideal we can only imagine? Make-up and fashion,
exercise and gym, we attend as though we may retain our own perfection a while
longer. Because there is nothing more imperfect than our conceit. Some would
rather die than live with imperfections and peculiarities unique to each one of
us, born as we are into this one likeness. Ageing does little for the perfect
body. July joints, August aches, September symptoms – we live with imperfection
to the last.
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