Not that anyone knows what I mean, or cares, but:
Fresher's fair on my campus. Big noisy rainbow coloured explosion of newness and noise and potential best friends. Potential clubs to join. Potential writing. Potential phd. Potential perfect skin. Potential perfect tone. Potential sex.
Potential perfect.
Something I thought all my ultra-practical, very grownup, mature and rational friends, relations and lovers might have known by now -
Potential Perfect = Nothing is perfect right now.
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