It was a cut a long time ago. My cheek.
I had this image in my head of it, years ago. Spirals. Spirals of images and memories and one of a cut cheek -- one of the spirals -- went and has gone from the past until now.
I don't know.
But now, I have a thought, turning into the more I think of it was a compulsion to cut my cheek.
But underneath the thought was a reason: to remember a specific HORROR that could have been avoided if I were stronger, or smarter, or more experienced, had more WISDOM.
So the cut, this cut, is a reminder of that. This cut is WISDOM learned but not remembered. Other than the cut.
By that I mean I did forget the shit I went through -- and possibly making the mistake again...
I cannot, this time, forget.
For if I do the pain shall repeat.
Trauma teaches one to forget.
Not remembering though means repeating destructive behaviour.
I remember after having posted this, that I purposely ran an X-Acto knife two or three times across my right cheek that night. It was gruesome and awesome. I then stumbled into the ER... When they learned it was "self-inflicted", one doctor displayed his "self-contempt" of my having done so... with his declaring, "And children could find the knife!" that I said I threw away. Guilt I have enough of. Shame I live with. Doctor's can be assholes. Such is life.