We’re just like flowers—painful circumstance is the foot which crushes our petals. People often forget how vulnerable they are. Many of us hop inside the cockpit of our car and fly down the street…forgetting that metal and humans don’t mix very well. A dull knife can pop our soft body like a balloon, but that doesn’t stop anyone from slicing and dicing a tasty apple. A common fever can evict our soul from our biological house. It’s odd that anyone reaches adulthood because it seems as if everything has the ability to punch our life ticket. If you survived long enough to read this article, never take your life for granted.
Everyone has suffered through the pain of an accidental cut, and without immortal agony—our frail flesh would be chewed apart by life’s serrated teeth. We learn from our pain.
A scar is a monument to our frailty.
We intuitively know our life can be trimmed with ease, just like a flower plucked from a garden. Some of us may feel safe inside the arms of a television screen or a book, however, creative entertainment can never save us from primal sympathy which allows us to feel what they feel, whether it be the continual chew of a chainsaw or a hellish beast’s bite…the fictional pain reminds us of our real pain.
The scars of horror lie underneath the surface of us all.
Life is a blessing and a curse: consciousness grants us the ability to investigate the shore of curiosity, but the frailty of flesh keeps us eternally bound to the cold grave, and that’s something we all have to live with…
…and die with.