I wait so often to do things, thinking there will be a more opportune time. When things aren’t so busy, when I’m in a better mood, when I’m not so tired, when I’m not so sober. I wait and wait for the perfect time to hear that inner perfection sing her words to me. To write the words that will challenge the perceptions of society. That will spark the curiosity in the wise and the wisdom in the curious. But there is no other perfect time than now. What you are hoping to find in your tomorrows exists here in your todays and every moment in between. To allow the outside world to dictate when you are able to know your inner self is to live at the mercy of an unstable and unpredictable ruler. It is not so often that the external makes itself perfect for you, but rather you make yourself perfect amidst the external.