“No son, never. The blood stays on the blade. One day you’ll understand.” – Priest Vallon, Gangs of New York

my life had been marked by scars, nung tinuli ako, nung pumutok noo ko ng dalawang beses. Mga katakot-takot na galos dahil sa paglalaro sa kalye at sa katakot-takot na “paso” dahil sa paglalaro ng apoy. blood, scars, and pain is the best reminder that i am alive…

(and the wound keeps on bleeding…) haaay, siguro mga nakakabasa nito iniisip na ako ay isang masokista… medyo lang naman. Siguro what drives me is the thrill of conquering myself. Nun nabali ang kamay ko, sabi ng doktor sa tatay ko habang namimilipit ako dahil sa fractured radius and ulna is “that your son is experiencing one of the most painful experience.” katumbas daw ng sakit na naramdaman ko ang bone cancer. Pakshet! di ko talaga makalimutan yun, you just wan’t to pass out sa sakit at umiyak na lan pero hindi ka maka iyak dahil sa di ko mailarawang sakit.

But what does not kill you only makes you stronger. Cliche? But, believe me there’s a lot of truth in it.

 

Why am I so fascinated by my scars? Why not, it is a reminder of all my poignant past. My right arm/hand has three (3) scars. One looks like a scorpion, the other is like Kuwabara’s (yuyu hakusho) spirit sword; the one on my hand looks like a pine tree.

Share your pain!

 

 

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