Precursor to my last narrative for WRI325.
I am currently sitting in the silent study area of the campus library. I’m typing surprisingly fast given that I’m using my iPad and it’s virtual keyboard, but I suppose that’s a good thing. Anyway, Saif just looked over to me and I mouthed “hijabi” to him. Oh, more background on where I’m writing from right now: silent study, fourth floor, sitting next to Gilbert. Let’s begin.
I look back on the past few years of my life. There have only been three, in recent memory, periods of time where I’ve experienced genuine happiness without any interjection of conflict or some stress factor: the summer after high school, the summer spent with Seth, and finally, the brief time I spent being in love and dating _____. This isn’t to say that my life now and in all other instances beyond the aforementioned three are total hellholes not worth mentioning. I mean, in the past few years, I’ve met so many awesome people and the moments I get to spend with them are blessings to say the least. But it’s unfortunate.
So what am I to write about in this final piece? The penultimate conclusion in my quest to find a replacement for this notion of home in my life. This epic end to the dramatic saga of my university life.
I will write on the ephemeral. The changing. The never-same waters of life. How poetic!
Quite frankly, this project has been a welcome window into my life. A journey of self-discovery.
Time to write.
