Whenever I think about the ugly dregs of one’s unpleasant history, no matter how much time passes and how much one may think one has already gotten over it, I always have this imagery in my mind of a can of worms. Of course, the inspiration for that imagery no doubt originates from the saying, but I like it especially because it is able to convey certain connotations of dirt and squirm, which translate into my feelings about the ugly dregs of one’s unpalatable past.
I suppose now that we are really about to ride past the cusp of young adulthood and venture forth into the valley of good old adulthood, it is high time to face ugly truths and learn how to be comfortable talking about dreadful things so that we can all be critically mindful of what we could be susceptible to when dealing with issues that we would all rather not deal with. But I suppose if we are serious about being seriously responsible about taking hold of our lives as decent adults, it is inadequate to merely store some hope in our hearts and wait passively for luck in life to grace us with the possibilities of happiness.
I think that it’s not only important but responsible to sort yourself out before you get another person involved in the turmoil mix of your life.
Open the box and crack open the can. (As E has done in the previous post.)
It might be a good thing that this year has just gotten started.