Assalam Aleykum Warahmatullahy Wabarakatuh
However,i seem to constantly discover new excuses to not write.I'm too exhausted,i have assignments,i'm hungry,my journal is too far.Oh yes,quite the extraordinary reasons to prevent me from partaking in something that i absolutely love.I am yet to discover why exactly i am in this writer's rut if i may say.Is it that i'm lazy or afraid?And if i'm afraid,what exactly is it that i am afraid to find in my own words?
Last week i got into trouble with my community service instructor for being late to the site.According to my University,engaging in forced volunteer work is supposed to inspire me to look outside my own bubble and notice that the world does not revolve around me.That there are other human beings and creatures to care about.And while i completely agree with the envisioned outcome,i feel that giving back to the society shouldn't be something that i have to do,rather something that i want to do.So when i was late to my community service site on the day when my instructor was to come and oversee whether i had been slacking on the job,my instructor basically blew a fuse.
As i was sitted in the matatu, negotiating with my instructor through the outbursts of anger that poured through the phone call,i couldn't help but wonder why he was so vexed with me.I mean he was VEXED.Was it because i was late?I was still on my way though and only an hour away.I think.Was it because i had made him wait for me? Because an elder made to wait for his or her junior is not something very socially acceptable in the African context.In Africa,the older you are the more respect you deserve,even when you don't deserve it.Maybe that was it,maybe the power distance between the young and the old had finally caught up with me.Maybe i deserved it.Nevertheless,none of that mattered anymore,this was it,i was getting an F.Even though i had completely dedicated myself to the work i was doing,that didn't matter anymore.The cultural - social system was going to hand me a big.fat.F.
This ordeal had me racking my brains night and day,trying to come up with a solution.I don't sit well with failure,it drains the life out of me.But i guess we all have to go through it from time to time.Basically because of this,i couldn't write.I didn't want to write.There were many times when i sat in front of my laptop only to end up staring at the white screen like a demented soul.I'd hop over to my journal only to stare at the blank pages.There was too much to think about. Am i getting an F?I can't repeat this course again i'm too exhausted.I worked so hard, how could he decide not to come and evaluate me?Should i go talk to him?I can't seem to find the time.Furthermore, I haven't written in a week,i need to write.Speaking of finances, I'm running out of money and its the first week of the month?So much laundry to do, my closet is beginning to look like i got robbed.I haven't finished my assignments and those requisitions that need to be forwarded to the office for that club's event?Deadlines,deadlines,freaking deadlines.I have a taekwondo tournament to train for but i haven't been to practice in over a month.I'm tired.I need a nap.A sadness nap.A long sadness nap.
Clearly i was overwhelmed.In some ways i think i still am,maybe i always will be.I keep on asking myself,is this what being a grown up is all about?I'm always worried, always stressed that there's something i haven't done.There's always something that needs to be done.Even when i'm happy i'm not.Because the thought of a deadline to be met hovers above and around me like a dark,strange cloud.Constantly reminding me that my happiness will always be tainted.It got to a point where i even started to wonder,does it even get better?Because last semester was extremely chaotic but in comparison to this current one,it feels like a breeze.
People keep on telling me,chill out,you're going way too fast, remember there are others out there who have it much worse than you do.And i keep thinking,how are you moving so slow?This is the only pace i know of, i've even forgotten how to relax.And it's not that i'm oblivious and insensitive to the pain and suffering of others, but i don't want to downplay my emotions because someone else is having it worse.If i'm having a bad day,i'm having a bad day.Allow me to have a bad day.Let me experience the feelings of a bad day.Don't tell me or expect me to feel better because others have it worse,my emotions matter too.I'm having a bad day, that means i'm feeling sad,or bad.And i just want to sit in my dark room and snack on biscuits dipped in Nutella.Allow it.
And while i understand that people only say this to help,i think that it's ok to have a bad day.Its ok to have a bad week.But it's not ok to sit and wallow in a pool of pity for the rest of your life.Neither despair nor desperation is cute.Bad days give us experience.They make us better story tellers.Without them, we would not know what good days feel like.Do they taste like shit?Hell yeah.Do they happen more often than the good days?Hell freaking yes.But so what? I think they are as important as the good days,maybe even more.
Somedays,i think to myself,what if a bad day was a friend and not an enemy?What if a bad day was actually a random,nice geeky guy just doing his job?What if he actually wanted what's best for you?To teach you,to mould you.I don't know if it gets better,i'm starting to think it doesn't.I think we just get stronger.But one thing is for sure,bad days maybe shitty as hell but that doesn't make them any less important.
Ok, I think i've rambled enough for today.Hopefully the next time,my thoughts will be presented to me in a more clarified manner and not this tangled web of...whatever this is.And i will have recovered from the writing blues.And the life blues.