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Imprints
Saturday, July 18, 2009
Scars.I love scars. Don't worry, I'm not emo or anything, slashing my wrist whenever I feel bored. Each scar signifies a memory. It represents the eternal memory of something that happened. In casual recollection, a little digging is required to retrieve these precious thoughts and might not be fully recalled. With a scar, looking at a mere scratch line or an unevenly coloured patch of skin instantly plays a vivid flashback of its origin.For example, I have a stitch scar on my head. Its story? My best friend ka-pow-ed me in the head while playing tabletennis, embedding his racket into my forehead, spilling forth torrents of gushing blood when he dislodged it.okay okayyy, no drama...He waved his racket into my head while playing doubles. While I was grabbing my head in pain, he told me there was blood flowing down the side of my head. Blood? O.o I went OMAIGAWDZ and let go of my hands and blood spilled (YES I USED "SPILLED") from my head all over the floor, marking it with crimson graffiti. Shocked by my newfound talent for art, I froze for a moment. Coming to terms with my pro-ness, I pressed on to my head while appreciating my unintentional artwork. It looks as though someone tripped over his shoelaces and splashed a bucket of paint. Ok well, I did, but my head IS NOT a bucket, even though I used "spilled" previously...So there, now I have this bloody memory of my best friend hardwired into my mind, engraved into my body, almost for ever.There's another one by a silly girl who decides to pinch me for fun probably to test the elasticity of my skin, leaving a ")" when she let go. Ok lor, so i added two more lines, making it a "=)". But now the eyes kinda faded away leaving behind the smile haha.And hey, one nice long streak ony my arm too. In a game of tag with friends during primary school. OMG I'm surrounded, how? I decided to jump through a bush while running from friends as a shortcut. I appeared from the other side of the bush a changed person. Who knew the bushes were full of thorns... red slashes all over. =/Right, so just treat each scar as imprints of precious memory instead of blemishes. You'll have plenty of stories to tell too. =DLabels: memories
Darren Nico Pillai
Not-so-average teen, deep thinker, perfectionist with quirky randomness. Trained in the art of sarcasm and nonsensical logic.
Overcoming the circumstances of the present, and the issues of my past,
striving in self-betterment with a moral balance with the hope of the fulfillment of the destiny to be a light for Christ in His likeness,
spreading the love of God as how He first loved us
==============================================================
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Heal my heart and make it clean
Open up my eyes to the things unseen
Show me how to love like You have loved me
Break my heart for what breaks Yours
Everything I am, for Your kingdom's cause
As I walk from earth into eternity
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
- Hosanna -
Philosophy:
I like to think about life, especially pursuing on the concept of love. Not that lovey dovey romantic kind, but the affections we have for one another
that ties us together,strangers, friends, besties, family, that's the love I wanna know about. Love is the essence of life that ties us together,
love is what we were made for and to be, love is embracing the gift of the relationship with GOD.
Find me at Facebook and Twitter
Leave a message on my tagboard or drop me some questions if any.
Collection of inspirations and reminders: Nico_thoughts@Twitter
==============================================================
Imprints
Saturday, July 18, 2009
Scars.I love scars. Don't worry, I'm not emo or anything, slashing my wrist whenever I feel bored. Each scar signifies a memory. It represents the eternal memory of something that happened. In casual recollection, a little digging is required to retrieve these precious thoughts and might not be fully recalled. With a scar, looking at a mere scratch line or an unevenly coloured patch of skin instantly plays a vivid flashback of its origin.For example, I have a stitch scar on my head. Its story? My best friend ka-pow-ed me in the head while playing tabletennis, embedding his racket into my forehead, spilling forth torrents of gushing blood when he dislodged it.okay okayyy, no drama...He waved his racket into my head while playing doubles. While I was grabbing my head in pain, he told me there was blood flowing down the side of my head. Blood? O.o I went OMAIGAWDZ and let go of my hands and blood spilled (YES I USED "SPILLED") from my head all over the floor, marking it with crimson graffiti. Shocked by my newfound talent for art, I froze for a moment. Coming to terms with my pro-ness, I pressed on to my head while appreciating my unintentional artwork. It looks as though someone tripped over his shoelaces and splashed a bucket of paint. Ok well, I did, but my head IS NOT a bucket, even though I used "spilled" previously...So there, now I have this bloody memory of my best friend hardwired into my mind, engraved into my body, almost for ever.There's another one by a silly girl who decides to pinch me for fun probably to test the elasticity of my skin, leaving a ")" when she let go. Ok lor, so i added two more lines, making it a "=)". But now the eyes kinda faded away leaving behind the smile haha.And hey, one nice long streak ony my arm too. In a game of tag with friends during primary school. OMG I'm surrounded, how? I decided to jump through a bush while running from friends as a shortcut. I appeared from the other side of the bush a changed person. Who knew the bushes were full of thorns... red slashes all over. =/Right, so just treat each scar as imprints of precious memory instead of blemishes. You'll have plenty of stories to tell too. =DLabels: memories
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