Good Enough

Don’t tell me I haven’t been good to you
Don’t tell me I have never been there for you
Don’t tell me why
Nothing is good enough ("Good Enough, Sarah McLachlan)

I just have to know why no one can be perfect so I can bear everybody's dismissive looks when they hear my name. I defy to be a failure even to myself, yet I never thought of striving for that perfect person I am expected to be. I tried to defy perfection since the time I regained confidence to myself, but perfection is haunting me and giving me reason why I have never been good enough.

I cannot even create a coherent entry as this.

I am not good enough to anything since time immemorial, and that is how I was conceived. I struggle with all the rules, from grammars to mores. I forget relevant facts from office protocols to how I fell in love. I regress everyday as my neurons explode from this deadly nicotine and as my sympathies turn into indifference. I am often compared to be less competitive than the rest. I have never made a good impression that I did not frustrate. I always almost, and may just always be almost, grasped my achievements.

I can never be good enough to be loved.

I can never be a straight-A student.

I can never be the most efficient assistant.

I can never be a good daughter and sibling.

I can never be the most sympathetic friend.

Thus, I am like this.

I still believe I can defy the standard operating procedure of conforming, if not consciously complying, to other people's impressions even if it means painful isolation from the maintream. If no one could care when I cannot be good enough, I must not care so as to care for myself.