scars [Theme] Page 1

The scars on the soul, although they make it less sensitive, do not decorate at all - neither those who wear them, nor even those who inflicted them.

The first generation of survivors - the one that suffered the most - carried their pain close to the surface; memories, like splinters, cut into the flesh, some pierced the skin, others remained invisible to the eye. Meanwhile, the next generation was ready to dig up the past and break the seal of silence. Strange as it may seem, but in the families of internally displaced persons, who retained the scars of war and suffered from violence, it was the young who had the oldest memory.

- Damn rabbit, the lady herself left me to die and faded away!

How to get rid of a hole in the heart? By changing your behavior and focus of attention, comprehending your own experience, you change your attitude towards it, and it becomes smaller. I do not believe that it can be got rid of - I think I will feel it all my life - but I can assure you that I perceive it differently than before. It was filled with my love for other people and their love for me, places dear to me, books and words that softened me, the sound of the ocean, the smell of freshly plowed land, the beauty of flowers, the laughter of my daughter - I did not expect this. I perceive this emptiness in my heart differently because I deeply understood its impact on me and accepted the woman I have become, the child and girl I once was.

It's funny how one memory stood out in a sea of others. It's always been that way with bad memories. The bad ones left scars. Even now, standing on that porch, I could feel the wrinkled flesh of that scar.

and from the outside, it turns out to be a beautiful sight.

All wars have their victims. Even if we are on the victorious side, people will still have invisible scars.

Even if I could, I wouldn't. Scars can be helpful. For example, I have a scar over my left knee - exactly the diagram of the London subway ...

If you are lucky, it will soon all turn into a scar rather than an open wound.

“You, too, have the scars of your battles,” he said quietly. - And I have mine. It is necessary, even though it hurts.

Some you barely notice, they heal quickly, without a trace. Others, deep, heal badly, and you carry the scars for the rest of your days. And you constantly tear others apart. [...] Although you know very well that you shouldn't do it.

When you know that the people in charge of your life just left you ... You grow up with scars.

One day you just accept the rules of the game that are imposed on you, and on all serious "whys" you come up with sarcastic jokes, forgetting your own truth. You pour the sequins into the trash. You change into black and personally launch a catapult into your air castles, watching indifferently as they collapse. Forever. Over time, a person gets used to everything, even to the chest. The main thing is not to show scars. Do not let touch. And do not forget to smile, so that no one suddenly thinks that there is something more in you than you demonstrate.

Zhenya walked along the dark street, looking at her shoes, disfigured by white stains from the salt reagent that communal services generously sprinkled on the roads. These curves, blurry lines reminded her of internal scars, no matter how much you wash them off, they still show up.