I am a lucky cup
Always filled with craziness and joy
Together we make memories of sweetness
You being my precious drink
I can’t be me without you
Ground and brewed
My kindda addiction
Your taste will always be best seller
Me ~ a lucky cup forever
Coffee is you
Love ain’t the same
A cup of coffee in this dull hour
Makes love worthwhile
*we always need a cup to enjoy our coffee right?
Originally posted on http://hesaidshesaidph.com/art-past-memories-scars/
“We all love to keep memories of the past.”
Consciously and unconsciously we put these memories on a pedestal, like our god or the leader of the pack, sort of like a blueprint – a guide on what to do in the near future. We feed these memories with toxic feelings like bitterness, hatred, or resentments poisonous to our very own growth. We nurture them like a little baby, taking down each milestone as we move on from our unfriendly past.
We have lots of scars in our hearts. Some of them already have “Torrens Title” to this hollow muscular organ of ours, pumping pain till we can no longer hold each hurt, leading to a fatal heart attack. Some wounds though long been healed still its twinge can be felt more often. Because these horrendous scars have an indefeasible title to our being, which keeps us from moving on.
In this not so perfect world, we are easily deceived by our pretentious id. In psychology the id basically works to satisfy our needs, it is like a pill or a drug that drives us insane. We rely so much on its falsity as we are afraid to hear the truth; that “past is past, we need to “let go.” We like to hang out in our comfort zones because it’s more convenient for us. When all these memories piled up in our thoughts leaving no space for peace and forgiveness, we become captives of our own blunder. These are life’s setbacks that we need to address right away. Tendency, we get so overwhelmed, thus stopping us from growing.
For 2 to 3 months, I’ve been filling myself up with negative energies. For many weeks I’d been nursing my pain, stuffing unpleasant feelings, cultivating vengeance, fueling my rage towards everything, seeding unhappy thoughts, catering misery through my poetry, and feasting on past sad memories. I had terrible amounts of toxins flowing in my blood. I lost my appetite and that need to socialize. The good life I had and I knew of was changed when I lost myself to depression. Yes, I was battling with depression. Reality was tough, heartaches were unbearable, and life was seemingly hopeless.
Unknowingly, I let painful memories reside in my heart and gave tenants’ rights to my scars. I died. But big thanks to “FAITH”, God actually waited for that tragic moment, I have to die first, so I can fully appreciate and understand what “MIRACLE” really means.
I am quitting all negative vibes for good. Been there, done that, move on. This whole ordeal is all about renewing my true being. That I am special and that God is greater than my heartaches. The moment I accepted His will I found relief.
Part of the process is to embrace the past. That it happened and we could no longer change the history. That time machines are not real and all we need to do is to adjust to the changes of the time.
Memories are supposedly beautiful – whether good or not, the purpose of memories is to teach us lessons. Let it serve its purpose in your life. Do not let those memories paralyze your growth. Though there are times we keep reliving them, allow yourself to feel it till you get numb. The moment you feel the numbness start planning out for today and tomorrow. Baby steps will do as long as you commit yourself to the process.
Do not ever treat memories like your god. But allow God to use those painful memories to your own advantage. As to your scars, demand for rental payment or the value of the space they are occupying. No matter how ugly the scar is, treat it like a beautiful art. It is you and the scar who truly know the real story – story of survival. Make peace with those scars, it is there already, but you have the power to create something beautiful out of it.
Receive the gifts of heaven, if you are gifted to paint use those scars as your muse, if gifted with a voice let scar be your rhythm, and if you are gifted of writing use those scars as your words. It is how you use your memories and scars that will help you grow maturely.
(c) quirkyshine a.k.a. Shine Lum
How can I even remember a song without priming its symphony.
We were two like rhythms –
Boring, unexciting, toneless souls,
Craving for something – a magic perhaps.
Looking for the right filler to complete this half-baked story.
Then suddenly you gave me the look…
That moved me to pull back
To leave and retract.
And when you asked me, “what’s wrong?”
I said, “we were always out of tune.”