A Flaw In A Perfect World.

There is no such thing as perfect. So why do I view everything and everyone around me as such? In my eyes in a perfect world filled with perfect people, I roam this land with my unflawlessness and is exiled as though I have belonged before. In a world that is nowhere near perfect I am a flaw in the plan. Why do I feel this such way and for that matter everyone is different and unique in every way possible but yet I feel as though I do not belong.