Someone, somewhere, something.

I feel like someone is painting my portrait throughout the years. Adding one trait at a time, one quality, one flaw. Like I am becoming my self more and more every day. More complete, but also more complex, detailed. Sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night and I have this weird flash when I think of something, anything really, and think "Oh yeah, this is SO me.". Or I am in the bus and suddenly I discover new things I didn't even know were part of me. Like someone, somewhere, added something on my portrait, someone working on my mind, drawing more details, like a painter. Like someone as been working on my person during the night. An external hand on this giant canvas representing my body, my mind, my soul. I don't know, maybe that doesn't make sense for everyone. It does for me. We just change over the years, we get better or worse, our skin gets darker, lighter, our laugh can gets darker or lighter too.......Like an artist who is painting, drawing, sculpting. An artist wants to achieve perfection but does he ever succeed? Is there such a thing? Are we are trying to be so fucking perfect because we are in the hands of someone else trying to make us perfect? Someone somewhere is working on me. Another one is working on you. We all are some kind of unfinished masterpiece, the big project of an artist. As you know, working too much on something sometimes makes it look worst. You went too far. You need to let it go and admire what you've done so far, appreciate it, because if you can't stop, breathe, look at it, you'll never, ever get close to perfection. Maybe you already are. Just stop being, doing, thinking too much. That's how I see it.