Dear Diary: I am not perfect.

Posted 1/22/2011 by Cora in Labels: , , , , , , ,
Image from the film Pink Floyd:The Wall.


This character feels an immense pressure to be perfect.


Dear Diary,

I feel the weight of the world on my weakening body. I cannot breathe. My lungs are attempting to expand, inhale, exhale. My breath is running short, and so is my time.
“You must be intelligent, graceful, witty, the greatest.” Great expectations are called forth by great minds, and I am agile, while apprehensive. If you slip, you are bound to fall. If you run away, you will surely fall.” That is what they tell me.
I must be perfect.
I must be all they have ever dreamed of.
What makes me the greatest?
What makes me tower over the rest?
Is it the drugs I’ve taken? Or maybe it’s all the secrets I keep.
I am afraid of heights, because the higher you go, the greater your chance of death.
I am afraid of the assumption that I am a king, chosen by God, perfect in every way.

I am a deceiver. I am a night weaver.
I am a chiller. I am a thriller.
I am a smoker. I am a toker.

No one knows I am not perfect.




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