The past is a beautiful thing. It’s terrible and can be crippling if you contemplate it for too long, you find yourself wondering “what if…” and can slowly destroy yourself, only to one day wake up from it and realize you’ve wasted years trying to change the past while wasting your present. But like all bad things it’s also amazing. In our pasts are the reasons that make us what we are, each lesson learned, every cut and scrape, every smile, every hug, those people that can’t be there now for whatever reason, they are all there and they always will be.
Even patients with demencia or alzheimers remember them, their parents, their lovers, people that hit them hard and stayed with them even with a crippling illness slowly stealing their souls, they hold on to those faces, those moments from their past.
Our memories are beautiful, like a photograph, forever there although we fear they aren’t, although there are names and faces we can’t place, they are there, a part of us holding onto them forever.
I wonder if we feel that pull somehow… If someone misses us so much, remembers us, how can it be we can’t feel that…It seems imposible to me, it can’t be that we feel so much and they don’t…We are capable of conecting on so many levels, somehow, somewhere we must feel a niggle, an itch, hear their voices, smell their perfume…
It can be a horrible feeling sometimes, making you sick to your core. Someone who destroyed who you were, crushed you and you still feel that, still remember that smell, that touch however much you want to forget it. Like I said, it’s a love-hate relationship I have with this world of ours.. I see both sides and can never decide with which I agree as both have good arguments. Like a well placed security camera I see everything and it makes it so hard to love or hate.
I’ve just realized how much I go off topic.
I know it’s because there are things I feel I need to talk about but don’t have the courage yet… Like a puppy been hit once later cowers away. In time dear ciberspace I shall reveal all, in my own way and time this magicians cards shall be on the table for all to be seen.
Maybe that way finally I shall be free.