It might be too late, but I'm finally done

I just couldn't bring myself around to write the last blog, so I finally wrote about this very same thing. How I want everything to be perfect but I procrastinate and I am aware of this. Although, it's just not the fact that I kept this blog-writing hanging for too long, it is also that I, most of the times could not find a perfect topic to write about, perfect according to me. 

As a little child, I hated crayons. I was proud of my fine motor skills and always coloured inside the lines, even if I took twice as long. I always had neat, legible handwriting, that might not be the case anymore. To my five year old self crayons symbolised everything that was wrong with the world. The colour was always coarse and lumpy, so it was impossible to colour perfectly inside the lines. Even worse they smelled like burning cardboard and broke too easily. 15 years later, I still have something of a keen obsession with perfection.

To me perfection is not just a state of mind and being a perfectionist has really never been my motive. Although, quite the opposite is ultimately what it looks like. Once, while I was giving a creative test sort of thing for my kindergarten “entrance”, I coloured the cats ears green, but neatly. Sometimes, I'll compel myself into thinking that every now and then some wild power will capture me and I might go berserk, trying to pretend not to care about things that really matter.  But there also times, times like these where the “perfectionist” within me seems to go into hibernation. 

I’ve always been rebel refusing to conform. I will refuse to study for a test. I will defiantly procrastinate and smirk at all the post-its in my room filled with assignments to be done. As a strange sort of torture, I sit and scowl indifferently at my work. This probably also the reason I haven't posted my blogs for a while. And just like a convincing Faustian myth, the devil within me always wins. Either way, everyone has high expects too much out of me. That's what I keep telling myself. If you don't do well, I think, you're disappointing everyone. But most important, I am disappointing myself. That is what has finally compelled me into writing most of these blogs as a chunk. Although, this isn't an excuse and I am aware there will be consequences. But it is the truth. No matter how many times I scheduled this blog-writing task for the last month, I just didn’t feel like it and ironically, this is exactly what I wanted to write about. 

And now reality hits me, full force.This rebel and procrastinator infused with a little bit of perfectionism is a drug I am now addicted to, and it's taken me over the edge. In trying to perfect what could never be perfect and then end up procrastinating. I waste hours that could be better spent and I have come to realise that, even though it might be too late.