RESET

she grips her past

a throbbing weight in her hands

carves out the darkness

and lets it bleed away

**The Temptation of Erasure: Would You Reset Your Soul?**

In the depths of our minds, there lies a place where all our memories reside — the joyous, the painful, the mundane, and the extraordinary. This place is a sanctuary and a prison, where we hold onto the moments that have shaped us. But what if, in a single act, we could erase it all? What if we could take the darkness that haunts us, hold it in our hands, and simply carve it away, leaving behind nothing but a blank slate?

Picture a woman, striking in her darkness. Her eyes are lifeless, devoid of the spark that once animated her soul. Blood streaks her face, a visceral reminder of the pain she carries within. In her hands, she cradles a brain — her own mind, the repository of every thought, every memory, every wound that has carved itself into her being. This image is both beautiful and horrifying, a dark art painting that speaks to the deepest desires and fears of the human soul.

The brain in her hands is more than just an organ; it is the embodiment of her past, the throbbing weight of all that she has endured. Every scar, every shadow, every whisper of regret is contained within it. To carve out the darkness from this brain, to let it bleed away, is a fantasy that many of us have entertained in our most desperate moments. To be free of the burdens of the past, to wash away the pain and start anew, seems like an irresistible dream.

But there is a cost to this erasure — a cost that is both profound and irreversible. For the darkness in our minds is not isolated; it is intertwined with the light. To remove the pain is to also strip away the joy, to erase the memories that have brought us love, laughter, and hope. Our minds are not simple machines that can be reset; they are complex tapestries woven from every experience, every emotion, every thought that has ever passed through us. To unravel the darkness is to unravel the whole, to destroy not just what has hurt us, but also what has made us human.

Would you still do it? Would you trade the fullness of your experience, the depth of your emotions, for a life unburdened by pain? In the pursuit of peace, would you sacrifice the very essence of what makes you who you are? These are the questions that linger in the air, heavy and unanswerable.

Life, with all its darkness, is not simply a series of tragedies. Within the shadows, there is also light — a light that shines brighter because of the darkness that surrounds it. The pain we endure shapes us, but so too does the love we give and receive, the beauty we encounter, the moments of grace that lift us from the depths of despair. To erase the darkness is to erase the possibility of these moments, to deny ourselves the richness of a life fully lived.

Perhaps, then, the answer is not to carve out the darkness, but to embrace it. To acknowledge the pain, the trauma, the sorrow, and to find within it the seeds of resilience, of strength, of transformation. Our past, no matter how heavy, is a part of us — a testament to our survival, our ability to endure, and our capacity to grow. It is the canvas on which the masterpiece of our life is painted, each stroke of darkness balanced by strokes of light.

In the end, we must ask ourselves: is it worth it to forget? To erase the darkness and, with it, the light? Or is there a deeper beauty in holding onto our past, in accepting the weight of our memories, and in finding the courage to carry them forward? The woman in the painting holds her brain, her past, in her hands. She has the power to carve away the darkness, to bleed it out and be free. But to do so would be to lose everything, to become a blank slate in a world that is colored by both light and shadow.

Would you still do it? Would you reset your soul? Or would you, like her, choose to hold on, to carry the weight, and to find the beauty in the darkness that has shaped you?