Me: *follows a bunch of absolute nerds across the social medias, good but undoubtably flawed human beings some of whom self describe as ‘trash men’, who embrace the fun and sometimes absurdity of their medium, endlessly inspiring*
Me: *thinks they’re the coolest people ever*
The voice of my therapist, strolling into my thoughts: Ah, so you agree that these people have flaws? That, objectively, they’re not perfect? That the art they post isn’t perfect?
Me: Yes, of course they’re human
Therapist’s voice:“ Yet you like them and their art?
Me: Yes! It’s great, they’re wonderful!
Therapist voice: Despite their flaws?
Me: Yeah, sometimes because of them. It’s endearing. The flaws don’t detract from that, it’s part of this person’s style and I think they’re awesome and, look! They’re having so much fun! I’m happy for them!
Therapist voice: But you’ve said before that not being perfect is a sign of failure, that if what you create isn’t objectively flawless, then it’s not worth it
Me: No, I said that about me and my art. This doesn’t apply to them. They’re allowed to make mistakes. I mean, they’re people, that’s what people do, to hold them to that standard is unreasonable and would make me an asshole. Plus, like I said, I like their flaws and the imperfections, it makes it theirs
Therapist voice: *smug as hell* Could you then, perhaps, extent that same level of thinking to yourself and your art?
Me:
