The replay showed what I will never remove from my memory, as 9/11 unfolded before public television.
//
My mom loves U2. One day the song Sunday Bloody Sunday played through the cars speaker system. Mom why is it a Bloody Sunday? Why is there broken bottles under children's feet?
That song made me realize war as a terrifying reality. "Oh how long must we sing this song."
//
Musings:
There is no way to play hide and seek with the battle between light and darkness. You are either scarred by it, or you're blind to it. The only antidote to ignorance is exposure to the darkness jolting you out of your pretend light.
The darkness knocked the breathe out of me, forcing me to cling to the sweet oxygen of light, reviving with the sweet fragrance of purity. With the smell lingering from the light, I still know that darkness is a present truth.
Sweetly fading sentiment belligerently wage against fragments of truth breaking through the sophistry of my facade. Learning to accept bitterness and sorrow as the main characters to the backdrop of the mirage of perfection.
Fiction has taught me to except pain, or rather detest the fallacy of all things tinted rose. There is no glasses that can fit the ridge of the realist I have become.
The glass is half empty, but a day will come where it will be fully full.
-Marina
