Fuck it! You Perfectionist Fool

Foolish perfectionism.

With me it’s always pain or pleasure. Always fleeing or diving headfirst. I said that if I changed the plans, I would be accepting defeat. So what? I’ll say it as straightforward as possible: Ten years ago, I left my best friend to die on the battlefield. I never accepted that defeat. I simply evaded it. And now I want to do the same with this seemingly much more foolish situation. Now, it’s only about my character; there are no lives involved besides mine. I want to lose and not accept. This is pure evasion — again. Fuck it! I’m going to lose, but I’m going to change and adapt. I should have done it ten years ago. I’m going to start doing it now.

There is a hidden premise underlying this whole project, which I only now perceive in the midst of despair, a premise that can guide me out of this hole.

Each day MUST be worth 500 words.

If I have nothing to write after an entire day in my life, if I can not reach a mere 500 words on absolutely anything that happened during my day — any fact, thought, feeling or nugget of knowledge that I have acquired — then that day was not worth living. It was just a filler day, as if I or anyone had time to spare.

If I can not find time to write 500 words a day, then that is another problem altogether, another dragon that I must slain. And although it seems to be the most difficult problem, it is the easiest. Not truly living a day in your life is the real problem. The rest demands only that you suck it up and do whatever it takes.

This is me accepting defeat and adapting myself.

I have proven to myself that I can write posts of exact 500 words, and make them bilingual. I love this self-imposed limit. As I said before, there is freedom in restraining ourselves. But I take too long just to make these length adjustments. The real goal is to be concise without being content to write too little. I do not need to be exact. So, from now on, my goal is 400 to 600 words. This will greatly speed things up without compromising the true motivation for such a limit.

Also, I will stop forcing me to add images to posts. I really like to see my blog with all those grayed-out images, making my posts stand out. Yeah, but that’s my stupid perfectionist side talking. I’ll try my best to add images when it’s relevant, but I will not allow this to take an impossible amount of time, so as to make me give up everything. To make this clear, there are no images in this post.

I also review my posts dozens of times not to allow typos. I just read a little book that is rocking the web and found three. Fuck it! Here is a tipo in order to free myself from this imaginary problem.

And finally: I write to myself. I quickly forgot about that. I find it fascinating that you (even if only you) might like one of my posts or decide to follow my blog. But that’s a bonus, not the reason I’m doing it.

I want to write every day. Period.

Fuck the images, the precise limit, the eternal revisions, even the general quality!

I’ll keep writing.

Fuck it!

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