
Like everything that has lived long enough on this planet, I have cracks, wounds and scars.
Some are superficial, like wrinkles on the skin.
Others are deep and invisible. The remorses, regrets, and painful memories I carry with me.
Some have been made by other people's choices, words or actions.
Most are of my own making.
In the past, I would try everything to get rid of them as quickly as possible. All in vain, as I've learned.
Once a crack is made, it changes you forever.
So I've learned to celebrate each and every one of them.
Every crack, wound or scar is a lesson, learned or to be discovered.
They are part of my unique signature.
But most of all, they keep reminding me that I am human.
That I am messy, fragile, prone to make mistakes, imperfect.
Like every human being on this planet.
We are all wonderfully imperfect.
Isn't that perfection?
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