My Scars & My Flaws

I was born in a silence that envelops me now. It is the shadow I have now. The moments I lost are now lying in a transparent box in my mind. They are what shape my memories. We are never too black nor too white; we are grey. Every life has its own song. When that life quiets down, the song becomes part of nature’s orchestra. Nobody will be there waiting for me on the sidewalks of my defeat. As soon as the train of my thought stops, I hope to see a light at the end of the tunnel. People tell me all sorts of things – scientists will come up with all sorts of formulae and theories to explain my out of the box behavior, philosophers will present their best philosophies to simplify my complexity, politicians will display before me all ways to corrupt my unexplained agendas, doctors will try to make a cure for all my dysfunctions. But in the end, what has broken me will be what will mend me. They say no one is born perfect, that our mistakes can be learnt from, that pain is only there to make us stronger – but what if all the ugliness is what defines us? What if each wrong pattern inside us is what gives birth to the right one? What if our imperfections are just beautiful perfections waiting to shine in the light of our realization? They say time heals all wounds but it doesn’t; it just deepens and covers them well enough to be invisible. Nothing can be fully perfected, fully righted, because if it could, there would be no beauty to come out from that ugliness in the first place. We are all ashes and dust – but then this very dust and ash is what gives rise to something greater once more. All that we are is one big mess waiting to explode into tiny bits of perfection. I don’t care anymore about hiding my scars or my mistakes or my flaws – they are the ugliness inside me which radiates the beauty inside me. They are what make me who I am. The world is just too absorbed in fake, materialistic beauty to see it yet. What holds true is often lying beneath thick, sticky, hideous surfaces. Not everyone has the ability or the power or the will to pass those surfaces and reach the bottom to find what lies beneath, beneath the scars and the flaws. Until then, until the moment someone comes to meet me beneath the surfaces, I will just be a speck of dust floating in the nothingness of my creation.