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Every Blessing I Forgot to Count

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I've spent the last week thinking about what my next blog should be about. It’s not like I ran out of ideas—I never do. I just had too many ideas piled up on me. It’s currently 7 PM, and New Year’s Eve is approaching. I’ve been thinking about how gentle but also gut-wrenching life is, how it gives and takes at the same time, and finally, how okay I am with it at this stage and age. It all started when I was grabbing a cab after leaving the library and came face to face with Phabian. For the first time in the longest time, it didn’t feel awkward to say hi. I realized how much we’ve grown up since graduating high school, and for the first time after three long years, Phabian offered to wait with me, just like he always did. In that moment, I realized my decision to move on silently from between him and Miranda was right—no grudge, no gossip, only pure, good memories. Our interaction took me back to a conversation I had with my cousin. I was having a bad day, and she asked me what I w...

This is what I've Learned About Men Without Getting Laid

When reading my blog, half the people think I need an exorcism, and the other half think I need to get laid. Honestly, I agree with both. But getting laid isn’t on the table. It’s why giving blue balls to men was my expertise for a long time. Now, I’m not here to claim that I’m the ultimate authority on relationships or intimacy. As a virgin, it’s fair to say I shouldn’t be handing out advice. However, growing up around people with all kinds of beliefs—some conservative, others liberal—and quietly observing the chaos, I’ve developed a certain understanding of the sexual human experience and men in general. Add to that my evolution from a quiet observer to an extrovert. You might think it’s bold of a 21-year-old virgin to make these claims, but hear me out. I may lack personal practice, but I’ve seen enough to share a few truths about what you might expect when it comes to relationships, men, and yes, getting laid. You probably expected tonight’s blog to be a follow-up to my recent emot...

Love in medieval ways under modern-age conditions.

Part of the reason I am not a big dater at this point in my life is men. Straight up—men. I like them, but God knows every time I try to put my mind to it and give dating a chance, I get frustrated and step back into my bubble. Getting to write tonight's blog was hard for me. It almost triggered me into not wanting to open my laptop. Usually, when I have too many thoughts on a subject, it doesn't take much time for me to gather and organize them and get to my conclusion. Part of my writing journey is about breaking the cycle of ignoring what's in my brain when things don’t make sense in the way I want them to. I always expect things to align with my logic, and if they don't, I feel like I've lost control and start to fill voids that weren't there to begin with. While this afternoon's writing is not going to end the way I want it to—without any sense or solution—I decided to write it anyway. One of the things life experience taught me is that when things don’...

I, Zahra from the ghetto.

There's one thing I now 100% know about the future, and it's that I'm not going to stay unmedicated forever. Whatever mental instability I have will win one day, and I will eventually become fully convinced to take medication. I consider myself someone who is progressively getting better at managing my life with a brain that won't work in my favor. It usually goes like this: I spend a long, comfortable period of time functioning like a normal person, until one day, I feel like I am physically starting to lose control over myself and can't convince myself to leave the bed. I find myself hyper-fixating on something to get me through it until I slowly lose focus on it and return to my normal mode. Rinse and repeat. With time, I started taking control over these phases by recognizing my pattern and trying to identify what triggered me—something I'm proud of, especially since I denied having depression for a long time. One of the things I realized about myself is tha...

Spite & Ostin the Footnote: Why he no Longer Matters

Today ’s the day I’m giving you the lore behind my longest situationship: Ostin , bébé. Earlier today, I was doing something I’m really good at: thinking about the past. Writing about what happened in high school really made me wonder: am I a self-centered bitch who victimized herself to the point she couldn’t get over what her ex did to her? What am I willing to admit about how wrong I was in some situations? For a long time, I was in the safe zone. Everyone was on my side. I never had a big conflict. I usually cursed someone’s entire existence and left, right? I made up with some and just left others behind. For example, Miranda and I never confronted each other, but when I see her on campus, we say hi. Same with Phabian. Summer was one of the people I thought I left behind, but turns out, that bitch can be as spiteful as I am sometimes. Now, two people are in the middle of nowhere: Ostin and Summer. Me and Ostin had a complicated relationship, and by that, I mean I embarrassed mysel...

Men are gone, they’re all GONE.

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Do you wanna know how I can tell my campus was the idea of a man ? Who in their right mind thinks of locating a whole ass campus with 7+ universities in an agricultural area next to a women’s prison next to a cemetery... I personally would rather shit a brick than take the metro every day at 7 in the morning and pass by all of that. But when you belong to the poor, you have no choice. Same parkour, every day—you step into the metro station and do your best to disassociate from your environment. Religion keeps me sane, that’s all I’m gonna say— I am grateful. My point is, this institution was man-built 40+ years ago when women weren’t included that much in higher education. 40+ years later, you walk into these places and it’s 95% women. Every class I took was 16 girls and 3 boys max. I even started to realize women were driving 65% of public transportation. What about the president, you say? Woman, of course!!! Each time I step foot in university, I take a look around and think how prou...

Phabian & Miranda, Never Date an Ostin, Never Trust a Summer: : A High School Survivor's Tale

 Ask a college student what the worst time of the year is, and the answer will likely be :                  November-December October is already a gut-wrenching twist for 90% of people in their 20s. Then come November and December, which feel like humanity's personal villains. Graduating high school is where the chaos starts. You live in the fantasy that adulting will be awesome until, boom , you hit 18, and every step forward feels like three steps back. Years pass, and life goes from depressing to unbearable to somewhat manageable . Fast forward to adulthood, and you realize you've seen nothing yet. Adulting is basically learning to navigate how shitty life can get—and still living through it. That might sound depressing, but here’s my point. Earlier this afternoon, I was folding clothes, putting away stuff to donate, when I stumbled across two things: An ugly yellow XXL shirt. A little black dress I don’t even remember wearing. These ...