Mirth and Melancholy

Should I hire somebody to give me ideas for better post titles? Nah. This thing's a one-man job. I mean, a one-lady job. Y'all, by definition, feminism is the idea that women are equal to men. And that's stupid, y'all. It isn't true. The truth is, women are better than men. I don't mean to put men down, I mean, men are great too. But what did they do to make the internet talk trash about them? Anyway, that's another story for another post. Allow me to continue talking about this wacky day that is finally over. After I published the prequel to this post, respectively titled, "Nothing," I heaved on my backpack and sauntered out of the library. I made it to building A and took the elevator down to level 2. It was then that I wondered why there isn't a ground floor. And if 2 is the ground floor, why is it called 2 and not 1? It made me imagine that the NLC faculty and staff probably punch in a secret elevator code to get to the hidden g...

Aaahhhh today is wacky. Not as wacky as last week, but wacky nevertheless! First of all, my friend Abr picked me up. As she was driving, I saw her touch her ID, and then I realized I wasn't wearing my own. It's okay, I reassured myself.  Not everyone on campus has one yet. And it's not like I'm going to need it today. To give myself an illusion of productivity, I opened my phone and viewed my to-do list on Google Keep. What next? I forgot to bring my sketchbook to class, and we were gonna do some in-class sketchbook assignments. We didn't have to do it in class, but it was a good idea if we just wanted to get some of it out of the way. But I didn't have my sketchbook, so I just told myself I'd do everything when I got home. Mr. Art Teacher said that if we didn't have our sketchbooks, we could instead use some scrap paper. I decided, well, I have no choice, so as I was looking through my file folder for some scrap paper, I found an assignment from ...

My only sunshine, you make me happy, when skies are gray... I don't actually know this song. But it's a cute one. I like to think I'm a ray of happy annoying optimistic sunshine for other people. But I realize that the same treatment is never reciprocated. Perhaps part of my hidden yet ongoing depression is due to lack of that reciprocation. I don't have a ray of sunshine in my life. I am my own ray. But when I'm down, that's it. All of me goes down. I also like to think I'm a strong independent woman who can do everything by herself with no help. So I don't like to accept any emotional or physical help unless I really need it. And once I accept it, I realize how much I really do need it. Before Ramadan this year, I visited a therapist with my mom and my sister, and I broke down crying in front of the therapist and my mom and my sister, as much as I didn't want to. I never usually display my emotions in front of anyone, not even my own family. ...

Lately I've been thinking a lot to myself, as introverts usually do, right? The conversations in their minds are always more meticulous and fluent than the ones that leave their mouths. Most of the silent conversations I have with myself are about useless things, like questioning why in children's books, the animal characters are named after their species. Franklin Turtle, for example. He is the only character with a normal name, while his friends, like Bear and Beaver, are named after their species. What about Bear's parents, or Beaver's siblings? What are they named? Bear and Beaver #2? Did the author ever think about that? Just today I looked up Piggley Winks, because I still remember this theme song from all those years ago. I never watched the show, but I remember playing the computer games. I was curious and wondered if it was real because I don't actually remember watching the show. So I looked it up and found the theme song. And it brought back all the nos...

Tuesday was the first day of digital imaging class. I was kind of late because Hamzah was taking forever to get ready. But all was good, the teacher hadn't gone into the class work yet and hadn't even called roll. I walked in there and he was like, "Hello!" I looked around. Everyone was sitting at a computer. It looked like they were all occupied. Am I supposed to sit at a computer? I thought. "Aaand we're out of computers," Mr. Black said, answering my question. I headed towards the table in the middle of the room and began pulling out a chair, but Mr. Black said, "Wait, let me hand you the syllabus." He gave me a white sheet of paper, which I accepted, and I then began to sit down. Then someone said there was an available computer, and sure enough there was one, right in the very corner of the room. Gratefully, I headed towards the corner computer and parked myself and my stuff right there. We went over the syllabus, and then we fin...

Okay, I'm not exactly sure what kind of mood I'm in right now. Immature? Deep? Sassy? I was literally just thinking of talking about how the first week of school went, but the bare thought of it made me stress out a little lol, like I'm not ready to think that hard and remember all those details. But I'll just go over it because I know you guys want to know and future me wants to know too. So, I registered for four classes: Drawing II, Design I, Digital Imaging I, and Photography I. Photography doesn't start until September, because apparently it's a flex course. Design and Drawing are taught by the same teacher on Mondays and Wednesdays. Digital Imaging is so far my only TR class, until September comes. So that's my schedule.  I really haven't been writing and I realize now as I go back into the season of academics that it made a huge difference.  My writing is trash. I read some of my old essays, my old books, and they're amazing, You wouldn...

Most of the time I feel like I am worth nothing. I don’t feel special in any way, except when people treat me differently from others. The joke is on me; I’m treated differently in the way that others have something against me. However, my “special treatment” does not affect me until a certain limit is reached. I am diligent in keeping myself optimistic and I like myself a lot; perhaps a little too much since I give myself extra attention because I don’t receive it from certain people. Optimism and self-love is only one of the ways I cope. My other haven is writing. Putting words to paper is the best way for me to channel my negative thoughts and feelings. Being a person of little words, I much prefer to discuss my feelings in silence than verbally. Additionally, there isn’t anyone I know who I can trust with my venting. Writing helps me find myself and discover my personality. I sometimes have no idea who I really am; I’m a certain person with my family, and another person with peers ...