There was a time in my life when I was a control freak. It was impossible to think that anyone could possibly have done things the way they needed to be done- my way.
One day I realized that all people were beautiful and smart, and had their own rights to perfection, as they saw it. That was the day that I started to love life, and love others.
Now I like watching things unfold and enjoying the humor in all of our imperfections because imperfections are real (and sometimes they're damn funny!). Perfection is not- it's just an impairment which prohibits us from living and breathing deeply.
Whew...
This title set me laughing. When I was 18 I was saved by the Kwell also. Dang Phillipine layover. Regarding paragraph two, does this include the guy with the police dog and the photo album? I´m still trippin´ on that story.
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