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Most often we search for perfection in a person. Perfect features, kindness, a perfect heart and so much of expectations are linked to perfection that we forget what's real.

There's nothing called as a perfection. We're all just a collage of tiny flaws and imperfections. We're a cluster of traits, ideas, hopes, dreams, emotional outbursts, dark days and brighter nights. We're the concoctions of hope and disappointment, moulded into one unique individual.

But we're perfect the way we are. And remember we're the only one of us —
imperfectly perfect.

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