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Tuesday, May 30, 2006
There are times when I am so against human existence.
Irony at its very best.
But sometimes you can't help but wonder what's happening to the world, to all of us. How can we, as humans, be so cruel and mean? So... flawed?
Like when you turn on the tele and you watch the news. You can see people dying... falling to the ground like autemn leaves in the wind. You can see, you sitting in a plush chair, munching away at your second snack of the day(incidentally, which you should not be earing, seeing as you are about to have lunch in half an hour), the blood. You can see a small child, no older than your own cousin (naughty boy though he is, but so adorable!) fear evident in his wide orbs, tremors shaking his body, blood on one isde of his face. You can see him, in a grassy field that is no more green than it is red, soaked with the blood of the dead. You can see him, prodding fearfully a woman's swollen body, slowly at first, then with trepidation. You can see his lips move, cracked lips that crackle with every tiny movement his angelic face makes. You can see them form one word:
Mommy.
For a moment you are entranced. Your heart fills with sorrow and anguish, for a moment that part that links all human beings surfaces and embraces your heart in a warm and enfolding hug.
Then you hear you father shout, and your heart sinks faster than it would have had a boy died in front of you on the tele. You know that he's found your report book, and you're dead because you've scored below average for most subjects.
And you forget about that little boy.
You start to fret about what your father is going to do to you, whether he'll take away your computer, whether you'll have to go for more tuition.
And yet when your teacher piles onto you a ton of homework, or your boss gives you extra stress (consequently you thus give more work to your students) you complain that there is no such thing as human kindness anymore.
You want human kindness?
Look into your hearts. Your own. Because until you know how much you can love, you are not worthy to judge others.
Judge yourself.
Like I'm doing now.
Can you see it?
A little smile on an angelic face. An angelic face on an adorable person. Her hair is golden- like an angel's. She wears a white dress. Her eyes are wide and innocent. She breaks into a silly little giggle and her laughter is fresh, like the tinkling of a bell in a place of silence and gloom. Like a ray of sunlight that streams across a shadowed area. Her skin has a feel of a new baby-soft and unadultered. She is dancing, flowers bright and cheery clenched in her little fist.
Imagine that picture.
Then imagine that her white dress is stained with the red of blood. Her golden hair is matted with blood, and instead of flowing about her shoulders, it is stuck to the sides of her head. One need only look into her eyes to see the horror and fear those orbs contain. Her face is muddy and stained, and her lips are trembling. They part to emit a tiny, anguished, painful whimper. It sounds like a wounded animal, one that has lost all, and is hobbling on its two front legs (its heel legs shrivled and torn in places). Her skin is rough and has abrasions and cuts lining her entire body. She is the darkest and gloomiest patch of vacumn in a dark closet, one that has doors locked and bolted twice.
Can you see her?
Do you feel your heart shattering, or are you more concerned about the essay that you have to hand in the next month and have not started on?
[ T-ray* ] blogged @ 2:17 AM
