Scars.

On this evening, I find myself mulling over of the imperfections we all share. Each of us is a complex mire of swirling vices and misconceptions. Many of the choices we make in life are shallow or short-sighted. Sometimes we make snap judgments without considering the long-term ramifications. Causation is chief amongst why we make the choices we do. Too many of us bear scars inflicted by those that have hurt us in the past, both physically and emotionally.

The beaten child becomes an abusive parent.

The scorned lover becomes a misogynist.

The overlooked student becomes a self-destructive party animal.

We all bear scars. You. I. Your best friend. The waitress that lives down the block. Your math teacher. The guy at the grocery whom bags your apples. The cop writing you a ticket. The prom queen.

We all bear scars.

Given the freedom to do so, scars can remain as open wounds that fester and spread sickness throughout your entire body. The sickness can infect your mind and spoil your thoughts. It can worm its way into your heart and ruin your ability to love - either yourself or anyone else. You grow older, more depressed, more untethered to the consciousness of mankind. Eventually, your light grows dim. At the end of it all, you find yourself to be a mere hollow shell. No spark. No internal flame. Done.

The causality of pain producing scars, which in turn causes us to make imperfect choices - that is a bond that we all share. Ironically enough, the state of normality is for us to be imperfect. To be "perfect" is not normal, but abnormal! These scars, whether we find a way to make them heal, or let them continue to sour our existence, are what construct the landscape of our lives. In a way, these scars... these past attacks on our potential happiness... they make us who we are. Each thread in the tapestry of our life is a choice. Some threads are given to us from others. Some threads are earned through hard work. Some threads are the scars themselves. Woven together, a complete person is produced.

We must hold dear our scars and attempt to heal as many as possible. Though, I make no implication as to forgiveness for the scars we have. Most actions can be forgiven; there are some that can not. This is purely subjective - only you can decide for yourself what is to be forgiven. At the end of it all, I'm left with one simple, but profound notion.

Scars are memories that refuse to be forgotten.