Sometimes I get sick. My ego hibernates and my vulnerabilities show themselves. Hidden within them are truths of my flaws which would otherwise be disregarded and ignored. Imperfection is universal, and trying to achieve perfection is to waste time. However, I do not want to be ignorant of my imperfections. I want to at least know. Then, I wish not to forget lest I become ignorant of myself.
To hide my flaws and fix them, or to wear them undisguised so that ones who care will learn to accept them is a debate for when I become better. Ironically, I just exhibited an obvious flaw of mine . . . procrastination.
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