Hurt, Heaven, and Hell; what does it all mean to you?

Hurt!

We’ve all felt hurt, and at some time or another most of us will have dealt it out.

Perhaps when Stephen King said in one of his writing tips ‘remember every scar’, he was really referring to hurt; the scars and hurt that we have both inflicted, and collected. I think it’s great advice for the writer, and a method to add depth to characters and plot. However, in our personal lives, it is not a good thing. Each time we remember a hurtful comment or action, it hurts us again … and again .. and again, until we let it go. It’s like smacking your thumb with a hammer to remind yourself how much it hurt when you did it by accident.

Hurt - Thoughts by the Dalai Lama


Heaven and Hell

When used figuratively, Heaven and Hell are transposable; it all depends on your personality, likes and dislikes as to which is which.

Heaven for one person might be a night in a noisy club, swilling alcohol and being deafened my house music. That’s my idea of hell. And conversely, sailing alone across a passive ocean with nobody for a thousand miles would sound like hell on water for many, but not to me. We’re all different, and that’s one of the great things about us.

I don’t believe in Heaven and Hell in the religious or biblical sense, as that would require a vengeful personal god. And that’s beyond what I’m prepared to believe.


I’ll leave you today with a clip from Johnny Cash, and one of his last recordings, Hurt, (which was written by Trent Reznor, and first released on Nine Inch Nails‘ 1994 album The Downward Spiral).

Johnny Cash experienced plenty of hurt throughout his life, much of it self inflicted, and in this heartfelt and powerful song, he seems to be confessing that.

Enjoy, and join me again tomorrow for a quiet peek at Introverts.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vt1Pwfnh5pc

I hurt myself today
To see if I still feel
I focus on the pain
The only thing that’s real
The needle tears a hole
The old familiar sting
Try to kill it all away
But I remember everything

[Chorus:]
What have I become
My sweetest friend
Everyone I know goes away
In the end
And you could have it all
My empire of dirt
I will let you down
I will make you hurt

I wear this crown of thorns
Upon my liar’s chair
Full of broken thoughts
I cannot repair
Beneath the stains of time
The feelings disappear
You are someone else
I am still right here

[Chorus:]
What have I become
My sweetest friend
Everyone I know goes away
In the end
And you could have it all
My empire of dirt
I will let you down
I will make you hurt

If I could start again
A million miles away
I would keep myself
I would find a way

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Author: A.J.

I have written as far back as I can recall. Until 2011, that writing was just for me, or as rambling letters to friends and travelogues to the family. I never thought about why, or if others did similarly, and the thought of publishing never entered my head. Since I left England in 1979, I have been collecting experiences, people, and places. From the blood-soaked streets of Kampala, the polluted dust bowls of the Sahara, or the pristine ice floes of the Antarctic, I have gathered and filed them away. Some have recently squeezed through the bars of insecurity and are now at large in the pages of my first three novels. Others await their future fates.

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