Some say that the imperfection of humanity plagues us. Some say that it is the reason we are such an aggressive, arrogant race of people. Some blame that for us being irrational and brash, but isn't it fair to say that it is our imperfection that makes us humanity? We, as humans, will never be perfect. Examples of this are skewed about history. They lie around every corner, occupy every turn. Time and time again we've tried to become a, somewhat, perfect society. Peaceful and generous.

It can't work. We taint such notions because of our easily corrupted minds. We can tolerate a sense of international perfection during peace time. We as a people have been able to agree upon an armistice, in fact. It's an extravagant occasion, but how long can it last? In 1913 the world was celebrating its peaceful state. The next year, war sprung out. It was The Great War, after all. The largest war to ever occur at the time. Nothing like such an event had ever been seen.

The Roman Empire. Its faith and passion for justice couldn't stop it from descending into chaos. Corruption ate from within the Roman government and justice system, rendering it infallible. Eventually, it deteriorated into such a state that it had to split in half to preserve its astounding culture. Everything that rises must fall.

Aside from the broader view of our imperfection; our aggression, our lust for violence and corruption, is the individual imperfection. Look at yourself. If you think you are perfect, then there's already something wrong with you. You believe you're perfect. Sadly, such a thing can never happen. None of us will ever achieve such a feat. Many of us have flaws. Actually, all of us have flaws, and I will gladly share all of mine with you.

I’m narcissist. I can't understand people, and I don't listen to them. I go to people with advice yet I don't even follow it myself. I can be better at everything I do, yet I choose not to be. I am lazy, and uncaring. The one girl I love I never get to see, but I feel that subconsciously it is all because of me. I am not perfect, and neither are you.

Our emotions control us. We argue that logic and reason is the way to go about things, but that can't stop us from considering our emotions and our passion. Love, sadness, grief, and happiness. All of these will affect our conscience, will affect our mindset, and will affect our outlook on life. When one is stuck in such a state as love, the world is beautiful. When one is happy, the world is blissful and right. Sadness and grief, however, take a toll on such mindsets. We think more logically, we care about other things. It's as if we recede into a mechanized, automatic state. Some can't stand it, some thrive on it. Our emotions, our passions; they make us unique.

We are a flawed race, blight to this world. We were the universe's mistake, and Earth's curse. Our existence kills millions of other organisms, has killed off countless species, and yet here we are on the top. We've taken advantage of this world, and we continue to. We use its resources; we claim it to be ours. We fight our conflicts on it, and kill everything we can, even our own brethren. We've destroyed its natural state, industrializing it until it bleeds our toxins. We've waged countless acts of terrorism, mutilation, and heresy on one another. It's our imperfection that makes us the terrible species we are.

Yet, it's also our imperfection that makes us the beautiful creatures that we are. Only in imperfection can the horrendous be so beautiful. Only in imperfection can the unwanted be so accepted. Only in imperfection, can humanity exist.

We've fallen from a divine grace.