if life was an onion
no matter how hard i tried, i couldn't find something less cliche if i were to find something to describe life in a single object. so...life as a rose. it starts out as a bud. concealing it's many petals. the stalk full of soft thorns like the silent dangers that lurk around the corner of adolescence. the rose blooms and reveals its many layers of beautiful petals. the petals fall with time, but the rose remains sweet smelling and beautiful. the thorns harden. and what would life be without thorns.maybe i should stop there. because i think life as a rose is slightly too hard to believe. i think life is like an onion. if u had a whole onion bulb, and it was the first time u had ever seen it, you wouldn't know that there are layers. you wouldn't know that the onion hs a bad smell (in my opinion) you wouldnt know that when u peel one, the stench makes ur eyes sting and tears form. u wouldnt know that the smell from the onion stays on ur skin like a like a leech that just broke fast. odd analogy i know.
life is an onion. because the more u peel it, the more u cry, the more ur eyes sting. and at some point, the tears stop, but the sting in ur eyes stay. and u can only really know how many layers there r when uve come to it's end.
as ure peeling ur onion and fighting the tears or at least ignoring the sting, u don't know how deep ure in. ho far uve gone. ure just perpetually peeling. because u dont really have a choice. in ur head ure thinking "why am i peeling?" and i guess whether u know it now or later, maybe never, it's cause without the peeling, without the tears, you wouldnt be able to make some sweet or savoury meal for someone else. maybe for urself. i dunno. maybe someone else's life is a gorumet meal. and it's up to them to salt it or pepper it, cut it up, whatever. but my life's an onion. but in the end, an onion or a rose, it all came from the ground, and it'll go back to the ground. and every rose or onion has a purpose. my onion waits among other onions in a little plastic bag on the shelf of some supermarket in some little town in some little country waiting for the day someone needs it
posted by Yani Malai @ 8:24 PM
1 Comments:
I think of myself more as a tree...from a small seedling that hovers pecariously on the border of life and death, through much obstacles like storms, fire, floods which strengthens and yet scars me permanently, I try to stand tall, to lean towards the light however difficult it is, to fulfill my destiny in life, to give shelter when needed, to sacrifice myself if necessary, only one amidst the jungle but fighting hard just the same...
Maybe I'm still too naive or idealistic, but a positive outlook keeps me sane... :)
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