Life is like a jar full of rocks, pebbles, and sand. The rocks symbolize what is most important in your life—your friends, family, loved ones—your precious people who you cannot live without. The pebbles symbolize things other important things in your life—your home, your hobbies, your dreams and goals—all the things that make you happy or that you are striving to achieve. The sand symbolizes all things in your life that don't matter as much or are harmful—bad habits, evil deeds, self destruction—things that you can or should be able to live without. The sand also symbolizes emptiness—not emptiness in the way that the jar is empty, because it is not, but emptiness in the way you have chinks and cracks in your life that your rocks and pebbles do not fill.
After all, the jar can never be empty.
Life is like a jar of rocks, pebbles, and sand. Reason to exist is like a jar of rocks, pebbles, and sand. If there is no reason to exist, you might as well not exist at all.
The rocks should take up a good part of the jar.
The pebbles should fill the gaps the rocks can not fill.
The sand should fill the empty spaces still left in the jar.
If a rock were removed, the impact would be great. But slowly, the gap would be filled with another rock or more pebbles and sand. If a pebble were removed, the impact would be less, but still felt. The space left behind would be replaced by another pebble or more sand.
After all, to exist needs a reason. The jar must always be full, no matter what.
But what if a person had no precious people, no one to love him, no hobbies, and was targeted by assassins even in his own home?
What if?
The jar must always be full. So what to fill it with?
Gaara's jar had had one rock. Himself.
His rock had been disintegrating, crumbling, falling apart, but he hadn't really cared.
Gaara's jar had had one pebble. Killing.
If one had not cared about oneself, one must have relied on something else for a reason to exist.
The rest of Gaara's jar had been filled with sand.
Sand stained with blood, and hate, and not much else. Love? Hah. As much as he had tried to make himself believe that he loved only himself, he knew it wasn't true. He hadn't really cared about whether he lived or died.
But now?
Now it was different.
Ever since that incident with Naruto, Gaara had decided he didn't want to be his jar to be filled with that bloodstained sand. He was already working at his 'precious people', starting with being nicer to Temari and Kankurou. It would be a while, but maybe one day they'd trust him again and he'd be their little brother—like he had never truly been before.
Maybe one day his jar would be like Naruto's—pure and clean and innocent, with precious people and hobbies and goals, and the dark past buried away.
Maybe one day the hatred of the townspeople would be thrown out along with all the dirty sand in his jar, forgotten and forgiven.
Maybe, just maybe—one day the only bloodstained sand would be in his gourd, the remnants of a past too shadowed by death to think about.
Maybe.
Hey peoples! Review please! Sorry--this drabble is kinda incompletish looking and short...I got the inspiration from health class 0o Check my other fics!