The Complexities of Untold Stories

Stories and humans are inseparable. We love them in every form; this is the reason genres were created:

Love stories; remind us of the possibility of the human hearts when they choose to believe in each other with reckless abandon,

Fiction; reminds us to stretch our minds to see beyond the horizon of our current realities,

Horror; to expose our darkest fears and the random scary thoughts that creep into our minds on a daily basis,

Success stories; to show us that the impossible is the untried and so many others we have all come to accept, love, predict and anticipate.

Today’s deliberation isn’t about the stories you tell yourself or the perspectives you form from them. The point I’m driving home today is to observe that there are stories you don’t tell yourself.

Because of the nature of stories, they don’t have to happen to be told — a story really, is a flow of thought towards a possibility. All stories start in a mind; a curious one, a perverse one or some minds that are just mere creepy.

So, we tell ourselves that love is possible but we don’t tell ourselves that love neglected end in ruins and chaos. It always end in shattered hearts and wounds that need healing.

We tell ourselves that time heals all wounds but we don’t tell ourselves that time is passing and invaluable — you need time to tend to your wounds but some other important things would have slipped by and many opportunities would have been lost while you rejuvenate.

I don’t know the stories I don’t tell myself but I hope to figure a few out.

Maybe then my life would change and my perspectives would take a new turn.