It was a Bank Holiday here yesterday so I’m a day out, I’m sorry.
Anyway over the weekend I went to the Swimming Pool and for the first time in my life I felt self conscious of my scars. Up to now I always adhered to the idea that: “Bones heal and chicks dig scars” well they might but apparently some people are also transfixed by them.
I have a lot of scars physical and mental and sometimes just sometimes I get tired of carrying them proudly and they do weigh on me. The weight of their significance is sometimes pushed to the back of my mind but as I was lying in bed last night thinking about it and thinking about the people looking at me I realised that they are as much a part of who I am now as my eye colour and I sure as hell can’t change them and nor would I want to.
Every time I look upon my scars I know I won and for those people that look on me with curiosity as to how I got them they should just know: You should see the state of the other guy.