Perfection Is An Illusion Novels & Stories

grumbled Markonah. "Pffft, slaves are still slaves! Just a little makeup, your confidence level is already exorbitant," Udin sneered in a high tone. Tukijo pursed his lips. His head was boiling like it was about to explode. But suddenly his sister's words echoed in his mind, "Hold on! Don't let yourself get one hit!" Then Tukijo restrained himself. He took a deep breath and then exhaled. "Patience ... patience ...." he muttered, rubbing his chest.

Her hands sl0wly hug around my torso, as I slowly tilt her head up, interlacing my fingers in her hair as I tugs on her strands delicately. "I am no fool, Mia. I am no fool. One day, you'll say yes to me, and when that happens I will make it worth your while. I'll show you how good you are at loving someone else, that, being me of course, and spend my days loving you as well. You say you're not perfect...So what? Who gives a shit. You're not perfect. No one is. But I swear to you, that if you give me a chance... Just one chance, I will make it worthwhile." I say as I pull her closer.

I told him, trying to laugh away my discomfort. He tilted his head with a quirk of his eyebrow, his lips lifting in the hint of a smile. "I thought they made the story feel more intimate. After all, the Moon Goddess is just a woman, an extremely powerful one, but a woman all the same. The drawings show her as a mortal being rather than the entity in the clouds we usually think of her as."

Unintentionally, I find myself sympathizing with her. “It must've been hard.” I lower my gaze a little. “Yes, it was. Because I'm so cute.” she laughs in a mildly self-deprecating way, and this time the sight of her isn't nearly as irritating as before. “But I don't think it can be helped. Nobody's perfect in life. Players in this game are weak, with ugly hearts, and they quickly turn to jealousy. They try to knock others down." "Yeah.." I'm not dreaming. Another human being is telling me this. And not just anybody, but Ms. Perfection herself!

He began to speak again, his voice quieter now but still clear enough for everyone to hear. “I called this piece Perfection,” he said. “Not because the woman in it is flawless, but because she represents something perfect to me. Something rare. She’s strong, but gentle. She’s been through things, yet she still carries light. To me, she is perfection — not in the way the world defines it, but in the way she exists. She doesn’t have to try. She simply is.” I felt my eyes start to sting.

"We prefer the term optimization. We are optimizing what you started. Making it perfect." "Nothing is perfect," Lyra said. "Perfect systems do not exist. They are an illusion." "Are they? Or have we simply achieved what others thought impossible?" The Speaker gestured around. "Look at what we have built. No conflict. No suffering based on rank. Everyone happy. Everyone valued. How is this not perfect?" "Because happiness without choice is not happiness," I said. "It is control. You are controlling these wolves through enhanced bonds. Making them happy whether they want to be or not."

I smothered the doubts in my chest again and again, forcing myself to believe it was just an act, nothing more. However, I never imagined that once the first crack appeared in the heart, the dam would burst faster than you ever thought it could.

I nod my head and start getting ready. I have known sadness, grief, and guilt. But losing someone. Never. The makeup lays bare in front of me. My fingers stop over the concealer. But they don't hold it. As if, telling me to lay all my emotions naked. Being perfect is a standard I have always gone for. Today I would change it. I would show the imperfections. Because they are the ones that make me more alive.

It's the ball in my neck, and I want nothing more than it to shrink and leave me alone. I am Emma Rhodes, the model at Model Perfect. Models must be perfect and show off a glamorous life that doesn't really exist. In an imperfect world, that strives for the perfect. The world tells us who we are and what we know. And what I know is this lump, is my doom. It could lift me up or tear me down depending on my test results. I sit in a small chair at the back of the doctor's office. The ticking of the clock is agony, and every strike of the clock makes the hairs on the back of my neck rise. The door opens and a nurse calls my name.

Dad said while laughing. I laugh too, “So all that you said is just drama to scare her?” “Of Course Baby. How can I live without you mom she’s my life and everything too like Shane to your heart. I just want her to realize that she’s not perfect at all.” “You are my idol Dad! I love you and thank you.” I hugged my dad tightly and he returned the favor and caressed my hair like a child.