(Video will stop at the 39:33 mark don’t worry. If not, pause it there if you wish to)


I never thought about suicide when I was younger. It was a concept that at the time didn’t even register inside of my brain. I was too concern with TV, music, friends, and trying to find a way to convince my mother to buy Burger King everyday, and have my father play hide and go seek when it came time to cut my hair. I was in my own little young world as most kids would be. I had no thoughts about the future, whether or not one day I could end up a failure, or even worse a prisoner of my own success like a white boy who wore the same damn NIKE air hat constantly from Detroit.  I was just a kid concerned about such worries that would cause an adult to laugh and wish the same problems could plague him or her at their older age instead of the real life issues they deal with 24/7. The closes of problems I had was deciding whether or not I was going to be on the girls team, or boys team when it came to playing a game during recces. I actually remember having a “real” conversation with my mother about my “doubts” and “problems” of making a choice. All in all, my childhood was carefree and bigger than any Pixar creative mind could conjurer up in their head. So taking myself away from this earth was never a issue. At least, until my pink matter went from Disney and shifted more so towards Tim Burton fiction. My unintended perfect childhood was starting to show cracks. 

I remember one day I was taking a bath and, I just stared in the water and just imagined what it would be like to, drown. It was weird feeling having that thought. I was, out of the norm and odd for me yet, it felt, good. It feel almost, free in a sense. I looked at the water and thought about just letting go and floating in there forever. I was becoming the last fight for Aquaman. I was the dying shark in Jaws. The titanic slipping deep into the sea as my brain played the captain refusing to leave even when he could. Deeper and deeper I wanted to dive in and create a watery grave for myself until the body and idea of me was no more but a distant memory inside of my family’s head. In this sense, I had began my dissent into what I can now see as imperfection from perfection.

From 6th grade on wards I became more self aware than I had wanted to. I started to see status in ways that people around me were not even accustomed to. They were just, living, while I was too busy paying attention to every word and detail that came out of my mouth. By doing so, it cost me close friendships I had formed from 1st-5th grade in another school before moving to a different town, just so I can be around the perceived “cooler” crowd. As I did this it cost me the first, and only true close friendship I had. I at the time didn’t think about it but, by doing that I was no longer able to share my fears, worries, doubts, etc with someone else so my mind wouldn’t become a crowded mess. My loner journey is easy to deal with now but back then I felt as if  I was on the longest bike ride in history the cold desert at night time. I have been on that journey ever since becoming older each year as I moved away more and more from Power Rangers and Batman, to chasing trends, and buying condoms. First world and white people problems I know but, from a more big picture perspective, ever since leaving high school and moving on to concrete reality of life, I had always been trying to find my childhood again. I have always been trying to disappear back into my young aloofness I once had without having to force it due to it just me being me. I basically was, trying to be perfect again. A feat no man nor woman had ever, or will ever accomplish by the standards set by society. 

“I’m tired of living with demons cause they always inviting more
Think being broke was better
Now I don’t mean that phrase with no disrespect
To all my niggas out there living in debt
Cashing minimal checks
Turn on the TV see a nigga Rolex
And fantasize about a life with no stress
I mean this shit sincerely
And that’s a nigga who was once in your shoes
Living with nothin’ to lose
I hope one day you hear me
Always gon’ be a bigger house somewhere, but nigga feel me
Long as the people in that motherfucker love you dearly
Always gon’ be a whip that’s better than the the one you got
Always gon’ be some clothes that’s fresher than the ones you rock
Always gon’ be a bitch that’s badder out there on the tours
But you ain’t never gon’ be happy till you love yours” -J. Cole

That became my new mission I guess. I was trying to be perfect once again in everything I did whether it was interactions with women, friends, and even my family. I was chasing the perfect conversation. The perfect tone of voice. The perfect word. Even the perfect way of sitting and laughing. This was in my opinion the best way to approach life. As a robot of sorts. Add in my race and its love of the Hip Hop culture and things were even worse. Now I was trying to be more than I was while ironically still trying to find myself. My style in talking became different. My style became more rap like. And my interests in music changed. It didn’t matter back then what genre it was. If I liked the song then, I liked the song. Period. But then, I was forced in a way of just sticking to rap and MAYBE a few POP and Rock songs that manage to cross over. I had no mind of my own at all, yet thought I was a stand out in life. Fast forward on, and I stumble upon “The Red Pill” theories and the “Manosphere” from the internet, along with PUA. My chase for perfection just increased from then on like a animal once free in the jungle, but now becoming accustomed to life in the Zoo. While it did and still does to this day, it simultaneously also cause me to become further and further become removed from myself. Almost like trading in my soul for the betterment of my future. Was the price of chasing a imagination worth it if I could no longer recognize who I was in the end? 

Like the video in the beginning says from the former manger of Jay Z, chasing perfection is evil. I honestly believe that from not just a reality standpoint but, even a religious stand point. I am by no means dedicated to any religion per say, but what I will say is that from the God vs Devil perspective, it would seem that following God’s dictatorial way of life 24/7 would still have us as a humans living in the dark ages. The devil was cast out of God’s kingdom for not following the rules and wanting to do his own thing. Looking at that with a mature (somewhat) sense of mind, I see nothing wrong with that. In fact, I embrace it even. Why was the devil seen as bad for not wanting to become a robot in a sense and instead embrace imperfection. Why chase what can never be. Or more so, why try to act what can never be? It is really all about the chase of perfection and not really capturing it. Because once you do, then what? What then will became your life if you do manage to find the perfect job, the perfect house, the perfect man or woman, etc. What kind of life will that be in which no wrong ever happens? There is no beauty or art in that. By me finding the Red Pill my initial rejection of it was due to the fact it may me seem as if I would have to sell my soul in order to achieve what I want from women in life. Fact is though, what it was teaching me was to use these skills as a tool, and in the long term process find myself again. Find who I once was by killing all the Disney BS and instead giving me a cold hard truth about women, life, and taking responsibility for my actions and ideas that I want to become reality. It was not trying to sell perfection. It was trying to teach me my imperfection is what was going to make me stand out from the rest if they guys trying to be Mr. perfect. 

Striving to be perfect will always result in a backlash. You can always chase it but ever truly grasp it. That is part of the game of this world. Its the hunt and the bait not the actual catch. Every year and damn near month there is either a new TV, phone, clothing, sneaker, album, etc for us to buy and try to claim “classic” or “greatest” on it. Yet, not everybody feels the same. But the way its presented to us is that we must look at this as perfection. We must try and become this if we want to be happy. We must want to dress like the stars, drink what they drink, buy what they buy, listen to what they listen to, etc. Its always about looking to grab the carrot in front of us but never really reaching it. When we as a society figure out that what makes the individual happy is what really matters, I believe this world can become a little bit more stress. Not completely happy or stress free but just a little bit less worried. I didn’t want to say the typical BS that one size fits all mentally. There will always be problems in this world. There will always be a girl that looks better than your girl. Or a man that looks better than your man. Its the nature of the beast. Trying to always win and in the end burn every bridge you have will cause a empty life at the end of the finish line. Would it be all worth it once you start to see that the world is going to just keep spinning whether your alive or not? Who then are we living for? Ourselves or what is “correct” for economic purposes? 

To wrap this up, I am not saying we should abandon all hard work and never focus on anything else in life just because it feels right. Hard work will always be apart of life until we reach a point in which technology takes over completely like in the movie Wall-E.  What I am saying is the imperfections we deal with daily are the meat and bones of life. The pasta on the spaghetti. The movie trailers for the movie. The make-up, perfume, outfits, and heels of a woman. The arguments and fuckery we see in the comment sections online. Etc, etc, etc. I’ll leave it here with a video that touches on my topic today. Granted its about the  music entertainment industry, and the video is a hour in internet time, but I feel like it perfectly wraps up what I am saying in this post when it comes to imperfection and chasing perfection. Should we consider the damages of trying to be a statue in a world which was first run by the law of chaos and destruction? Apologies for all the questions and the lack of answers. It would seem there is no right way to fully accomplish a post about dealing with perfection. Shocking eh? Here is a video from one of my favorite podcast today called “The Brilliant Idiots”. I highly recommend it if you ever need to burn a hour while working in a dull ass job. Thank you once again for your time. 


Categories: Personal, Philosophical

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