While Ying, Van, Ziddo and Adrian are off watching this horror film that I just can’t bear to watch (I’m not a big fan of horror, plus I’m down with a flu 😦 ), I thought I’ll just write on by far the scariest book I’ve ever read.
The Diary of Anne Frank. Please don’t laugh. It’s true.
Its the second time I’m reading this book, first being some 7 years ago. The first time I read it, all I remember was feeling happy and sad for Anne Frank. Oh, and I admired her terrific way of expressing herself.
But 7 years is a long time for maturity. In 7 years, I’ve learnt so much more about life that reading the book now has such a great, different impact on me.
In every page that Anne Frank shares about her life, I can safely say I’ve gone through it more or less. Maybe the only part is being in hiding. But I’m so engrossed in the book that sometimes at night, I find myself imagining being in hiding. I only wanted to feel what she felt.
I can feel for her in almost every account that she writes off. Her uncertainties, her dreams, her relationship (friends and family) problems… How people always sees her as a noisy bugger, how she wants to prove herself right, how she wants to be different from other women… The dreams and hopes for the future- it seems so bright one moment, then uncertainties starts pouring down that life seems all bleak now…
It seems as if Anne Frank was another voice, speaking whats embeded deeply in me.
But what seems so scary to me was that in every update I read in her diary, is every day earlier to her death. I know she’s passed on decades ago. But what I read her diary, it seems as though she’s talking to me. It felt so personal.
When she’s happy, I feel so happy for her. When she was scared, I felt fear for her too- as well as myself, I don’t even know why. When she was angry, I wonder why she had to go through all these. Oh yes, and when she was so scared for the future, I so much wanted to tell her: Don’t worry, I know what’s going to happen to you, but you’ll be brave. Rest well, dear…
I’ve 2 more ‘articles’ left before I’ll finish the book. But I’m scared. I’m afraid to read on. Cause I know whats going to happen. I’m scared to see the words: Anne Frank’s diary ends here. Oh no, I fear those words. I’m movng on to another book.
But I want to finish it. I want to give an end to it. Please give me the courage to read it. It might not seem as simple as it is. Its not simply reading. It’s letting go.
Don’t laugh at me. I know I can be emotional and sentimental at times, but I’m not exaggerating here. I’ll probably finish the book- maybe sometime later this week.
But for now, I’m leving it as it is. Tell me why I’m scared.
Wish me courage.
P.S. ADEE I love you. Dont be sad, you’ll pull through. If you happen to see this, just know I’ll be here for you. ❤
P.S.S. I’m still hatin’ you. Dont ever do these to my friends.
P.S.S.S. We’re shooting in a week’s time. Time to do our best. 3 years, 1 last film. It’s do or die.
P.S.S.S.S. (Sorry :S ) I don’t dare try anymore. Twice bitten, forever hurt. Goodbye dreams. Welcome reality. I need a break.