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[an error occurred while processing this directive] As I sat in the train, staring blankly at the posters across from me, afraid to stare at the bums loitering around in the car, my eye stumbled upon a little ad. Be all that you want to be. Join the HAC. Damn idiots. Promoting a magic solution for a problem that stems in the very root of our imperfect existance. My conscience caught me staring at the ad. It wondered what I would change about myself if I could. I wish I were a little more dedicated. Yeah, you're a bit undedicated. I slack off too much. I just can't seem to get work done. A little more dedicated, just like that salesperson who just loves to drop by. And maybe a bit smarter too. And more creative. Just like everyone else. I just wish I could problem solve better. Perhaps a bit less head strong, and a bit more knowledgeable. And fair. And just. Just is relative. How about trustable? Why can't I just be a good friend? Or be brilliant. Or be modest. Or optimistic. Less brash. Tall. Strong. Invulnerable. Well built. Charismatic. Generous. Rich. Kind. Powerful. Famous. Happy. Pipe dreams. But I can't be that. No, I can't be that. That's perfect. Perfect doesn't exist anymore.

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