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Divided Memories

Shutterscript

 

Since it was pouring and there was a tornado warning outside today I figured I'd get a little creative indoors... DISCLAIMER, this gets a bit deep.

 

Memories have their way of trickling into our dreams when we least expect them, slowly transforming our interpretation of reality. The bad ones sometimes serve as warnings of the past about to manifest in the present, while at other times they serve only to torment our every thought with no tangible purpose whatsoever. But the memories we cherish most are as much in our hearts as they are in our minds, for without the heart a memory is nothing more than a remembrance of what was with no impact on what is. The heart is what allows us to transcend the fleeting moments of life and carefully sew the frayed threads together into the very fabric of who we are. A fabric which, although far from perfect upon close inspection, is the only thing we have that makes us all unique... the only thing that makes us all human.

 

This fabric is ever changing and ever lasting, continuously torn, divided, and sewn back together by the hard-won lessons of life's less pleasurable, but oh so necessary experiences. A conglomerate of dos and don'ts, should haves and could haves. Those who spend their lives dwelling on these things will become prisoners of their own shortcomings, brooding incessantly about the human condition. But those who give these imperfections no more power than they deserve, and use them only to improve their craft, will create a life whose potential for greatness is limited only by the number of threads left in their time on this earth. And even when they are gone, their souls will be sewn into the fabric of generations to come, repeating the cycle that is and always will be, life.

 

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Taken on May 16, 2007