We all have a past, a present and future undeniably. Our ambitions for the “future“ vary across several breaths. Is there not an inate desire for perfection, or reach to a stage close to being perfect. Does that stage seem to stretch farther the closer you believe you have it wrapped around your finger.
Under the “picture perfect“ is there not even a dot of something that you wish was a bit different, the shade of the dress or the colour of your lipstick, what about the curl of a couple of strands of hair. You decide you need to alter those before the next picture, but hold on, didn‘t several people say it was “picture perfect“. So perfection is an illusion, others feel about you, expect from you and you expect from yourself.