Perfection in perspective is relative to the beholder as much as beauty or plastic surgery quality is. But to say this is stupid and immensely trivial that a blog about it is just ughh… boring.
You see, for me, perfection is a clearly cut concept. No relativity involved, it is quantifiable – measurable.
The meaning of perfection is simple: sacrifice for happiness.
Three and a half hours – that’s how long the bus ride is from Metro Cebu to the southern tip of the island, Santander. From this little municipality, a boat trip of 15 minutes is all it takes for one to hop from Cebu Island to Negros Island. A pedicab ride to Dumaguete then only consumes about 3 to 5 minutes. This very taxing routine is what I have to bear with if ever I wish to visit friend and frienemies in Dumsville – 4 to 5 hours I’m willing to spend on a bus of considerably questionable beginnings, driven by a man who has to be at least 60 with children spilling over any possible fluid available, old women coughing up a storm and bottles of “white flowers”, Efficascent oils, Omega, and Pau liniment, being opened and poured out from left o right.
But I still do it.
To sacrifice so much for something that makes me happy makes me perfect. You see, a perfect person is a person who fulfills the basic concept of life. To be happy. Whoever thought of it first, Aristotle or Socrates, or Confucius – one thing is sure and precise, LIFE. And life is led to achieve contentment and happiness. To achieve a perfect life or perfect person/a one should exert effort – a sacrifice. And when one achieves such feat, one has achieved perfection.
In the simplest terms, a perfect man is a man who is willing to hurt to be happy. The perfection of everything else thusly follows, sacrifice for happiness. That is perfection.
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