Note to self: never lie to yourself and think that perfection is an achievable state. Nothing truly can be; its hard enough to match one's own ideals, but to do so also in the eyes of others? Should this even be the measure for perfection? Admiration of others? It would be a chase in which you would lose your very sense of self. I'm trying very hard to remember this---that a perfect state does not exist in the mortal realm.

Do we all go through stages of disillusion? do we all feel the need to rip apart the seams of our own worlds, to test our own boundaries, until at the very end there is only the core of who we are?

On an entirely different note, I started thinking about The Little Prince again.

"One day," you said to me, "I saw the sunset forty-four times!"

And a little later you added: "You know--one loves the sunset, when one is so sad . . ."

"Were you so sad, then?" I asked, "on the day of the forty-four sunsets?"

But the little prince made no reply.