The Pursuit of Perfect Design

Here, on this side of heaven, we take delight in the haptic feedback of our keyboards as we witness the persistence of words manifested from thought. The more we write the less foreign our own speculations become just as speaking aloud causes the truth to arise from within. What we see, represented by the tireless efforts of the same material which makes us, makes it evident to us that existence is purposeful and that the meaning is in the matter. Look up, child, and you will see. We pursue perfection and yet can never attain. Everything made has decayed or will be as such. What we create has holes and bugs gnaw at the tears and we patch them only for another imperfection to rend the work. We awaken. We labor. We desire. We rest. Repeat. It's not just code executed by a machine, it's in all that we as humanity achieve. But even our greatest efforts have flaws. What we set the hammer to, will eventually rust, and another will come, improving upon its predecessor, only to be replaced by