Wednesday, October 29, 2008 @9:52 PM
I have been wanting to blog about this since a few days ago, a little extract from ' My sister's keeper'.
If there was a religion of Annaism and i had to tell you how humans made there way to earth, it would go like this : in the beginning, there was nothing at all but the moon and the sun. the moon wanted to come out during the day, but therewas always something brighter that seemed to fill up all those hours. the moon grew hungry and became thinner and thinner until she was just a slice of herself and her tips were as sharp as a knife. By accident, because that is the way most things happen, she poked a hole in the night and out spilled a million stars, like a fountain of tears.
Horrified, the moon tried to swallow them up. Sometimes it worked, because she got fatter and rounder. But mostly it didn't because there were just too many. The stars kept coming, until they made the sky so bright that the sun got jealous. He invited the stars to his side of the world where it was always bright. What he didn't tell them, though was that in the day time, they'd never be seen. So the stupid ones leaped from the sky to the ground and then froze under the weight of their foolishness.
The moon did her best. She carved each of these blocks of sorrow into man and woman. She spent the rest of her time watching out so that her other stars wouldn't fall. She spent her lifetime holding on to whatever scraps she had left.
Somehow, this little story touches me in its little way, something which i have yet to find a way to explain. Isnt it true that all of us are just fighting within ourself to our best interest, holding on to the remains of what we have, or rather,
used to have.
The hardest part is to convince myself before others that it doesnt hurt at all. It doesnt matter what the truth is, you just have to keep reminding yourself, pushing reality away from your eyes and sooner or later, you would have repeated it so many times that it seems like the way you wanted it. It seeps in and made itself into the truth that you wanted. It doesnt matter whether or not its real as long as you had convinced yourself so and that's when the truth became so far away that you no longer remember it existed it at all. The art of self- denial.