All I'm saying is that nothing is ever truly perfect because perfection isn't an end goal, it's a way of thinking and it's a way of observing. Unless every single person had the same mind, there would not exist a universal perfection. I don't believe anything around me is real anymore. Maybe death isn't even real? I honestly can't say I know. But I do know that maybe I'm not real, so I should look out for the people around me. We're all really raw souls wanting to be loved underneath it all. Maybe love's not real. But it feels real. And so that's okay with me.