Why is it so much easier for us to love the imperfections of someone else rather than our own? The way you bite your lip when you're holding something back. I love it, you hate it. The way I can never walk in a straight line. Well, maybe you don't love that, but then again, neither do I. I don't love the way everyone holds on just because they don't want to be alone, but that's also because I am that way. Watching the skipping stones jump across the water until they sink to the bottom, that's just it, it's living. We just keep going and are admired just up until we start sinking, and at that point no one cares anymore. When we hit the bottom we just get buried back into the earth, a skipping stone is just a rock, and a rock is nothing beautiful to look at.