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Resurrection by scars

2008-10-30 - 1:14 a.m.

Sometimes I wonder if I think about it too often.

It comes to mind when I wake up in the morning and roll onto my side, trying to pour some awake into my ear.

It's sometimes there when traveling over data, listening and speaking at meetings, or ensconced in episodes of television series.

Sometimes there is scar so indelible that your skin reminds you it's there. It may seem to serve no practical purpose for where you are, for what you do. But you wonder after it absently.

You stare into the screen, past the window, along someone's eyes--and back behind the milk and leftover chinese, it's there.

It is an exercise in futility to neglect.

These memories are prayer beads, counting through the same images and feelings in grainy VCR patterns and vivid seconds of HD clarity. Sometimes the past speaks to a possible future. But just like opening a box caked with tape and dust, you can reach in and find a thought. You can find an old part of you. Or even more remarkable, you can be inspired to create something new from something dead. To heal and grow.

A long passed friend of mine, Kate, might have called it 'Moot Necromancy.'

I call it a resurrection by scars.

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