types of memories

THE SCARS REMAIN

BECAUSE THE PAST IS REAL

A SCAR 

is not always a flaw

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sometimes a scar 

is redemption

inscribed in flesh

__________________________________________________

 

a memorial 

to enduring,

to something lost

I HAVE MANY SCARS. SOME ARE COMICAL IN MEMORY MOST ARE NOT. MOST ARE HAUNTING EVEN DEMONIC IN THEIR PRESENCE. SOME KNOW, MOST DONT THOGH, ABOUT THE HISTORY BEHIND MY SCARS. 

THE ONES I LAUGH ABOUT ARE THOSE I GOT BEING A COUNTRY BOY WITH TWO OLDER BROTHERS. FROM MISCHIEVOUS EXPEDITIONS GONE WRONG, FROM SPORTS, OR FROM BROTHERLY SQUABBLES (SOMEHOW THE BATHROOM DOOR HIT MY FACE...). 

MY NEWEST SCAR DOWN MY CHEST IS THE TOKEN OF SICKNESS. FROM HEART SURGERY. HOPEFULLY THE FIRST AND LAST, BUT UNLIKELY TO BE THE ONLY REMEMBRANCE OF THIS HELL.

THE OTHERS ARE VERY DIFFERENT. I WISH I KNEW, BUT I DON'T KNOW, WHY THE FEELING OF PAIN, THE SIGHT OF BLOOD, WAS THERAPEUTIC TO ME IN MY EARLIER TEENAGE YEARS. DESPITE MY LACK OF UNDERSTANDING AND REGRET, IT WAS THERAPY, TO SOME DEGREE, IT MADE LIFE MORE BEARABLE,  MORE ENDURABLE. SUBSEQUENTLY I HAVE ROUGHLY TWENTY-NINE SCARS ON MY ARMS FROM MY SOPHOMORE YEAR IN HIGH SCHOOL. ADDITIONALLY, I HAVE ONE FROM MY JUNIOR YEAR ON MY HAND, AND TEN FROM MY 'JUNIOR' YEAR IN COLLEGE. IT SEEMS THAT IT STILL REMAINS THERAPEUTIC IN NATURE TO ME. 

THE TRUTH IS:

I AM A 

CUTTER

A 

SLASHER

A 

SELF-MUTILATOR

I AM NOT A CUTTER BECAUSE I CUT, I AM A CUTTER BECAUSE I HAVE CUT. I DO NOT EMBRACE THIS AS AN ACTIVE QUALITY OR A HOBBY I PRACTICE. I AM UTTERLY ASHAMED THAT THIS IS PART OF MY LIFE.  WHAT I HAVE DONE DEFINES, OR AT LEAST CREATED, WHAT I AM. PERHAPS ITS MORE LIKE A LETHAL DRUG THAT GIVES AN ILLUSION OF SOMETHING FOR A MOMENT BUT LEAVES DAMAGES LASTING FOR ALL TIME.

THE PHYSICAL DAMAGE IS OBVIOUS, BUT THEY ARE FAR MORE THAN SKIN DEEP. THE MENTAL AND SPIRITUAL SCARS ARE PAINFULLY OBVIOUS BUT COGNITIVELY NONEXISTENT. THOSE DAMAGES, THE DEATH OF AN INNOCENCE. ONE I WASN'T AWARE I HAD. AN INNOCENCE LOST FOREVER. I'VE HUNTED FOR HOURS, UNEARTHED UNKNOWN SKELETONS, BUT NOTHING HAS ILLUMINATED AN AWARENESS OR UNDERSTANDING OF MY ACTIONS.

I'VE LIED TO MANY PEOPLE. I FEARED TO SEE THE LOOK ON THEIR FACE, THE SAME LOOK I HAD AND HAVE ON MY FACE WHEN I CUT OR WHEN I EXAMIN MY SCARS, THE FACE I WOULD SEE IN THE MIRROR. I THINK A MANY FEW CAN SEE THE LIE IN MY EYES, SEE THE PAIN, SHAME, AND HUMILIATION I RELIVE WHEN INQUIRED. BUT THEY NEVER CALLED MY BLUFF, TO THOSE PEOPLE I AM GRATEFUL.

AS MORBID AND ODD AS THESE FIRST FEW ENTRIES ARE. THESE ARE WHO I AM. A TALE OF MY ENDURING. A HISTORY, A PRESENT, AND A FUTURE. MY CONFESSION OF TRUTH FOR THE LIES OF THE PAST. SURE, THEY'LL FADE. MANY HAVE, BUT THE MEMORIES NEVER WILL. 

THE PAST IS REAL

THE SCARS WILL REMAIN FOREVER

PAPA ROACH THERAPY

- never wouldve thunk it - 

- papa roach produced a psuedo-prophetic depiction of my life - 

SCARS

i tear my heart open, i sew myself shut

my weakness is that i care too much

my scars remind me that the past is real

i tear my heart open just to feel

looking beyond the previous those earlier, defining years of my life; the past year point five has been, humans to ants, the most physical, spiritual, and mental convolution of myself in comparison to other 93.33...% of my existence [im roughly 22.5]. i've spanned the coordinative extremes of the X-Y-Z components, the modular trifecta of the human being.

X - physical (kind of resembles a human being)

Y - spiritual (trinity aspect with ascending arms)

Z - mental (representative of me, i'm sorta mental)

---feel free to establish your own trifecta of human components---

---its actually interesting to graph your state of being in 3D---

i can recall the respective, proverbial mountain tops and dark valley of each  anthropomorphic, coordinative combination, and every other possible tri-vectal fusion (6 others specifically). reaching the highs, stooping into the lows, and contorting to the other awkward arrangements. the rapid, unpredictable translocations of my being to thes numerous coordinative locations, has left me numb to each respective attribute of my persono*, bringing me to rest at the loci of (0,0,0). 

here i fetally watching the two epitomal** positions of elation (X,Y,Z) and despare (x,y,z) swarming in perfect spherical trajectories distorted by the  mutated orbits of the remaining six viable coalitions of points [(X,y,Z), (X,y,z),(X,Y,z), (x,y,Z), (x,Y,Z), (x,Y,z)]. The three vectors X, Y, and Z, usually and naturally are stable, but mine are not. they spin like a die*** where black and white fuse to gray.

---to much time on his hands---

at each of the eight loci, i can see a memory. memories of life consisting of those respective three values. they disappear even before they appear. the memories i can glimpse are marred by the impressions of others. they  congeal making a repulsive image of nothing, of ghosts.

its here i wait. waiting for the revolutions of my being to settle. so i can leave my fetal position, be reborn, be human, be me.

you see. its not the bad times that scare me. its my sessility**** in a world of chaos. i would rather be in utter despair (x,y,z) than at (0,0,0) where there is nothing. not that i strive for despair, i dream of elation (X,Y,Z),  the optimal trifecta, but that is not where i am at.

-I EXIST AT (0,0,0) -

- THE NOCTURNAL NIGHTMARE OF MY EXISTENCE -

- THAT OF INDIFERENCE -

NOTE TO READER:

there are many other ways which this song demonstrates my existence, physically, spiritually, and emotionally, some of which will be revisited

*persona looks feminine

**adjective form of epitome

***singular form of dice

****noun form of sessile