Last weekend I saw It’s Kind of A Funny Story, and it was quite good. Some parts felt a bit off like the main plot of a teen that get himself committed for five days and ends up being good at everything and find love. Kind of made myself want to do that but somehow I don’t think that would work out that easy — the kid in the movie was probably not that depressed and I’m not really the type of person who becomes good at everything and find love.

The character of Noelle however did remind me of the opening word in Mary Gentle’s book Ash. “The scars made her beautiful.” Now, I don’t condone or propagate that people should cut themselves. Metaphors people, different levels! (Even though I would probably have cut myself at times had it not been for the risk of blood. I have huge problems with seeing my own blood.)

It’s the imperfections that make people shine. The odd things and idiosyncrasies. The scars made her beautiful. People who don’t have scars, the normal people who only see the event horizon and don’t really understand that at the core, things like suicidal thoughts defies all rules of logic and rationality. It’s a hard thing to explain and one of the things that make “normal people” hard to understand from my point of view. Two parallel worlds that intersect without many points of reference in common.

The scars made her beautiful. Physical scars or not, they’re my people. Wouldn’t trade them for anything. Not even cookies and a pair of mismatched socks.