Everything was ceased and now there's a limit, a border. I don't want borders,
you're infinite
imperfectly perfect, since it an excellence like yours
wouldn't be flawless, being so, because
it's imperfect and then concrete and
more the perfect things are real
more they don't seem so,
contrariwise, the perfect excellence can not be
true and enthrall us,
but it isn't like the defective imperfection
that appear us celestial.
Understand me
Mar 4, 2014
Mar 4, 2014 at 7:06 PM UTC
Everything was ceased and now there's a limit, a border. I don't want borders,
you're infinite
imperfectly perfect, since it an excellence like yours
wouldn't be flawless, being so, because
it's imperfect and then concrete and
more the perfect things are real
more they don't seem so,
contrariwise, the perfect excellence can not be
true and enthrall us,
but it isn't like the defective imperfection
that appear us celestial.
Understand me
I am "She" in the title. Because I deluded myself, and it's like unless I was the same girl that now can admit this... I don't know how else explain my concept
