Memories…Are Overrated Anyway

Memories. Oh I absolutely love how they pop up in the most inconvenient times and places. It’s a shame that bad memories always stick around longer than the good memories. Maybe that’s why we need photographs, to constantly remind us of the good times we’ve had. On my Facebook news feed I always see people post photos of their happy drunken Saturday night escapades or cheerful food-filled celebrations with friends and family. Rarely do I see photos of people crying or in the midst of food-less fights and break-ups. Not saying that it doesn’t happen as I remember back to my emo-scene inspired days when each person had to have at least one MySpace bathroom shot of them looking sad or crying tears of black (or blood-red for the extra-scene kids).

What about those memories that you want to forget but are already archived in the bookshelf of your mind? (My emo-scene inspired phase is one of them, oh the woes of teenage angst). There are many things I want to forgive and forget in my past but it’s tough, especially when the emotion attached to some of these memories is still so intense. They say time can heal all things but it also leaves a scar that only covers the pain beneath. And every time you are reminded of the memory, it hurts just that little bit more.

Sometimes I wish I could Photoshop my life. The eraser tool would be on the list of the top three tools I would use. I would also use the crop tool and the clone stamp tool – that one is just for fun. If I had a photo for every memory I have in my life, I would erase or crop out the bad and clone the good. How’s that for a life of no regrets. I would also make a beautiful montage spread of my life and live a happy glossy ever after. I would even add spot varnish on the extra fantastic parts of my life.

But unfortunately for me Adobe haven’t made a Photoshop for reality yet so until then I will have to embrace my imperfect life, suck it up and deal with it. How would life live up to its title of being a bitch if there were no lessons to be learnt or mistakes to be made?

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