Being imperfect is perfection

Right now there are countless machines spewing out countless perfect texts. All the language has correct spelling and is perfectly comprehensible. It’s so boring. I prefer things people make, write, doodle, craft. I rather look at your stream of consciousness, your blotchy doodle, your crappy handlettering, your silly thoughts. I rather see your quiet musings, your wonky puns, your wild creative mind. I rather see you fail at what your perfectionism demands from you. Not because I delight at failure, I delight in trying. I find joy in seeing fellow humans who fill their spots in the quiet map of joy that is the indieweb. I think it’s perfect that there are imperfect people who make things by and for humans.