tears on my pillow

really have no idea why thats the title of my entry today.. im not crying naman.. and if thre is definitely something on my pillow i guess it would be the once in a while laway. (hehe) besides that, wala e.. gee.. not making any sense, bob.just feeling a bit yadayada today.. basically did nothing (uhhh. whats new)AGAIN. forgot to post what i posted to my Zorpia site here last night coz i was so engrossed by the book!!! anyway, here it is.

so many things to write.. so little time

a couple of days ago, i wanted to write about my Dream
Jobs.. actually had it planned already and had this outline already
(geez.. i miss going to school)..and then tonight as i bravely faced the
weighing scale once again (and saw it precariously tipping to 7.8st) i wanted to
write about facing your fears.

but as i sat down here on my desk i suddenly gazed upon this new book i
was reading (Le Nuit/Night)and due to the depression i was feeling a couple
of days now, I have found some words that convey the horror, pain, and
determination I feel.

They are all from Elie Wiesel, who survived Auschwitz.

I decided to devote my life to telling the story because I felt that
having survived I owe something to the dead, and anyone who does not remember
betrays them again.

I have not lost faith in God. I have moments of
anger and protest. Sometimes I’ve been closer to him for that reason.

I swore never to be silent whenever and wherever human beings endure
suffering and humiliation. We must always take sides. Neutrality helps the
oppressor, never the victim. Silence encourages the tormentor, never the

Indifference, to me, is the epitome of evil.

as despair can come to one only from other human beings, hope, too, can be given
to one only by other human beings.

Mankind must remember that peace is
not God’s gift to his creatures; peace is our gift to each other.

people think that shadows follow, precede or surround beings or objects. The
truth is that they also surround words, ideas, desires, deeds, impulses and

No one is as capable of gratitude as one who has emerged from
the kingdom of night.

Not to transmit an experience is to betray it.

Some stories are true that never happened.

The act of writing is
for me often nothing more than the secret or conscious desire to carve words on
a tombstone: to the memory of a town forever vanished, to the memory of a
childhood in exile, to the memory of all those I loved and who, before I could
tell them I loved them, went away.

The opposite of love is not hate,
it’s indifference. The opposite of art is not ugliness, it’s indifference. The
opposite of faith is not heresy, it’s indifference. And the opposite of life is
not death, it’s indifference.

There are victories of the soul and
spirit. Sometimes, even if you lose, you win.

There may be times when we
are powerless to prevent injustice, but there must never be a time when we fail
to protest.

Ultimately, the only power to which man should aspire is
that which he exercises over himself.

We have to go into the despair and
go beyond it, by working and doing for somebody else, by using it for something

But where shall I start? The world is so fast, I shall start with
the country I know best, my own. But my country is so very large, I had better
start with my town. But my town, too, is large. I had best start with my street.
No, my home. No, my family. Never mind, I shall start with myself.

love silence,” Katriel continued. “But beware; not all silences are pure, or
creative. Some are sterile, malignant. My father can distinguish between them
with ease; I only with difficulty. There is the silence which preceded creation;
and the one which accompanied the revelation on Mount Sinai. The first contains
chaos and solitude, the second suggests presence, fervor, plentitude. I like the
second. I like silence to have a history and be transmitted by it. My father and
I … my wife and I … we can sit together whole evenings without exchanging a
word, and yet, when we get up, we know we have told each other all there is to
tell. If I have not succeeded with you, it’s my own fault. I accept the blame
and beg your forgiveness.”

Sometimes we must interfere. When human lives
are endangered, when human dignity is in jeopardy, national borders and
sensitivities become irrelevant. Whenever men or women are persecuted because of
their race, religion, or political views, that place must – at that moment –
become the center of the universe.

The third rope was still moving: being
so light, the child was still alive…For more than half an hour he stayed
there, struggling between life and death, dying in slow agony under our eyes.
And we had to look him full in the face. He was still alive when I passed in
front of him. His tongue was still red, his eyes were not yet glazed. Behind me,
the same man asking: “Where is God now?” And I heard a voice within me answer
him: “Where is He? Here He is-He is hanging here on this gallows.”

destruction, an annihilation that only man can provoke, only man can prevent.

Because I remember, I despair. Because I remember, I have the duty to
reject despair.

galing no? wish someday i could write like him.. although i would never want
to go through what he did.. reading his book definitely made me count all my
blessings..and as for my job and diet.. i guess that can wait til tomorrow.


Author: angparaluman

a poster girl with no poster staying on the safe side of the road less traveled.

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