The obsessive compulsive perfectionist part of me wants to fix the crack in my windshield,
and the creative artistic free part of me wants to leave it, feeling the fracture adds character to the car.

Character…?
More character then what the already now stale squash scented air freshener adds to its interior?

Yes.
I think that perhaps the two compliment each other,
like thorns that articulate a rose, they are perfect imperfections,
unsurpassed.

You see, the crack in my windshield,

*>*Sparkles*<*

in its complimenting contrast.