you're fighting for something that's hurting you.

And once again, I am on a train.




Today as I was walking home, I noticed (rather startled-ly) a bird nestled in a flower by my foot. I scared it away as I walked by, but it hesitated a moment before it flew away and looked at me.

Normally this isn’t weird for me, but it looked me right in the eye. Almost piercingly. There was almost a feeling there. An emotion.

I really hope this isn’t the first sign of me going crazy.

I think I already kind of am, though. Perhaps it’s just a step in the right direction.



I then took a better look at the tiny flowers, growing in that shitty grainy soil outside of the Extension buildings. They turn their little faces towards the sun beseechingly, so vibrant and full of color next to the concrete and the prickly cottony bushes.

Flowers are hopeful. When you give a flower to someone, it’s a sign of hope. They open their faces towards the light with an ineffable sort of purity.




Can two people be meant for each other? I have two friends who recently split, and I’ve been watching them both closely. Some moments when I’m with either of them, or talking to either of them, my heart just sinks, because I really do feel like they belong together. There’s just too much water under the bridge. It all got to be too much to take.

It sucks.

I honestly do think that some people are meant for one another. In another world, it might have worked out. Sometimes it’s just not meant to be, though.



I’ve gotten really okay with saying ‘I don’t know’, in so many realms of my life. I’m not giving up the search, and part of me will always be anxious, restless, questing for the answers. I’ve become a little more okay with things not being all worked out.

The big problem is dealing with the people who aren’t okay with it, and not letting them break my stride. I’ve come to realize that all of my self-doubt comes from the people around me. I have a hell of a lot of faith in myself, and I honestly do believe that no matter what, everything will turn out fine.



My mother has this theory—it sort of is passed down in Indian culture, but it doesn’t really have a name as far as I know. I’ll call it the clay pot theory. The theory is that you have a clay pot full of your “life-spirit,” we’ll call it, deep inside of you. This life spirit is called your “atman”. Through your trials and tribulations, and especially your heartbreaks, your clay pot of atman can crack. Though you may feel broken, it is at these times in your life that your life spirit flows out, and you can see who you truly are inside.

It’s like they always say in the movies: you find out what kind of person someone really is when they have a gun pointed to their head.

The theory continues: the more your life spirit flows, the more you crack, the more likely your spirit is to flow out at other times in your life. Though you may be broken, you also manage to become more open, open to the universe and to so many other influences in your life. Breaking you also makes you, in a way.

It’s kind of sad that the forces around me are the ones taking me down, but it’s also nice to know that inside, somewhere, buried deep, I have a source of strength. I am so strong. We are all so strong. Even in our weakest moments, we are strong.





I have some weird sort of sense of faith. I have always been a spiritual person, I just haven’t found a banner to put it under yet. It’s not so much faith in a higher power as it is faith in people, and faith in myself.

Faith in something.

Luck has been on my side so far in this life. Sometimes it abandons me, but I really do think that there is no such thing as coincidence. It all works out in the end. If it doesn’t, it’s not the end.




D: It is written.