A perfect world is quite simplistic in its nature, but requires a difficulty regarding comprehension only a few can accomplish. Those who can comprehend the intricacies of perfection will realize that the definition of the word itself is imperfect. Perfection, you see, is a construct. An abstract idea. A far-fetched dream. You may find perfection in an infinite expanse, but even infinity seems beyond our reach. Human nature compels us to strive towards this infinity, towards those bemusing clouds of perfection, not realizing that the minute we reach absolute perfection is the minute we become as imperfect as we could possibly be. Indeed, the world needs imperfections to be closer to perfection. But if the balance is tipped in favor of the other, then everything would dissolve into chaos.
     While we may recognize the codependent relationship between perfection and imperfection, we are, after all, human, and we’ll always try to reach that mysterious expanse of infinity where our minds are convinced perfection lurks. The material of that cloudy expanse of infinity where perfection lurks holds different meaning and substance to each one of us, for each of our definitions of perfection will never be the same.
My definition of a perfect world is one where no one has to go through a night where their stomach aches of hunger; a world that is devoid of children whose ribs you could trace with a finger; a world where innocents are never slain and children would never be made to pay the price of war; a world where people realize that every shade was beautifully made, and that we all matter. I imagine a world that is colorful in every corner, where skin, religion, sexual orientation, or gender identity does not define any one human. A world where a mother will never have to bury her child, the evidence of which she’ll carry in her grieving heart for the rest of her life. I crave a world where no one wears a red bracelet to escape their suffering, where humanity would never sit back and passively allow genocide to occur, and where every individual has a roof above their heads. I see a perfect world as one where man and woman are seen as equals, and where forms of slavery such as labor and human trafficking are nonexistent. I see a perfect world as one where no child would have to witness their parents’ faces decorated with death. A perfect world would be devoid of stereotypes that are the catalyst for intersectional racism in society. A perfect world would never hold any gender to unrealistic expectations or limitations. Discrimination would be a foreign idea, and love between any two people would be universally accepted. Everyone would be just a little braver.
We know that the world is an imperfect place, and we are better this way, but perhaps we can all try to add our versions of perfections. We’ll all run hand in hand, our skin glistening different shades under the sun because of the diverse spectrum of color, each towards our personal expanse of infinity where our vision of perfection hides. Some of us will reach that expanse, some of us will pace in front of it, unsure, some of us will simply refuse to approach it. But our individual ideas of perfection show us we all have a role to play in making this world a little less broken.