What Hate Has To Say

I look back to the good old days. I scratch my head. I recall those “deyym” beautiful mem’ries. I scratch my head. I scan through albums of old low-quality digital photos. I scratch my head. And if scratching my head equals missing the good in my past, perhaps I’m doing the pretty right thing. BUT not everything back then is nostalgic. Surely not all. 🙂

Everyone’s past is an interestingly intricate maze of good, bad, happy, sad, bitter, sweet. Some might deny that. Mine is ordinarily interesting, I believe so. There are those really beautiful mem’ries I want my brain cells saved for; I would even bother to buy a diary. And there are mem’ries too wonderful indeed, they are to die for. There are ugly ones I could just laugh at now because they are stupid but cute. And of course, there are mem’ries I want to trash, days I want to forget, and perhaps years I want to count out. Oh yes, and people I want to believe I haven’t crossed path with.

It’s neither I’d rather be hateful, nor for me to play friendly in the face of those I’d prefer be called strangers. See? Not every hour in the past is nostalgic. There are some you’d rather bury far deeper than death. Why? Because they waken the anger, tickle the rage, lure your peaceful soul to vengeance for what could not be avenged for anymore.

The wrongs be forgotten, people be forgiven. Or maybe the other way around. Yes, the other way around. Because I’d rather say to them, ” We are not friends. We are strangers with memories – memories I’d rather forget.”

What Hate Has To Say

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