hello darlings. i am once again late to starting this draft of my letter, but i am determined to get it out regardless. sorry if its slightly disorganised :l i’ve been… busy. hope you don’t mind.
i’ve been getting steadily more religious as i’m watching the horrors in gaza. not just because of their enduring faith, but it is intensely comforting to remind myself of a better ending for everyone suffering. however, prayer and belief in an afterlife helps ease the pain, but it does not stop the ache that these people are actively suffering and i can’t stop it. they deserve to be able to see sunrises, to walk past the same tree every day for years and watch it grow, to listen to kids playing outside and not worry that they won’t come back. they deserve to be able to dream, to love, to laugh with no worry that they might be murdered for simply existing. but there is hope still. gaza will rebuild and a free palestine will be marked on every map.
i’m really loving finding the divine in the ordinary. it makes everything slightly more bearable.
currently reading: the invisible life of addie larue - v. e. schwabb (10%) kind of heartbreaking at the moment and i’m intrigued to see how all the questions we have are resolved :)
listening to: i’m different now - rosie darling
thinking about: a quiet life. a summer, soft, calm. the gentle swish of curtains in the breeze. sunlight whispering through them, it is the colour of sunrises. it is reading novels to the icy cold backdrop of winter mornings. i am knowledgeable in my field - my name is recognised by the scholars of the field i have chosen. in this other life, in this maybe-future, i hear my family, from the kitchen where my mother is old, old and making roti (she insists she makes it better than i do.) she laughs at something i have said, some piece of a joke i have read out to her. my brothers might be out, maybe studying, working. my dad is ordering more plants for his greenhouse, and i have no stress i can’t solve.
19/02 — i am excited to study medicine, though the reality of it humbles me. i do not see much glory in it. it seemed glorious. but i see now the silent tragedies, silent successes. i would like to help, to give care. to be compassionate and useful and humble. i would like to prove my worth, earn it in flame and passion. blood, sweat and tears. i am determined to do better, to get better, and with the arrival of spring, i truly feel like i can do it. me and my weird, broken brain can do it.
02/03 — i’ve taken to semi-obsessively opening and refreshing my emails, and i’d be lying if i didn’t panic every time i saw new ones. i’m waiting on three universities to reply to me and i am terrified. i got a terrible grade on my last chemistry test and i’m worried about that too, and i’m worried about my weight for the first time in four years and i’m worried that i’m not having enough water and i’m worried that i’m really iron deficient and and and —
08/03 — i suppose have some latent guilt around ‘picking and choosing’ when i get more religious, but i’m sure god understands. he gets me. (said with a little laugh) i have loved growing up and carving out my own space to interact with my religion. its not something i ever realised could happen, but like i have learnt that i like flower-scented perfumes, i have learnt that i don’t need to craft meticulous prayers for god to listen. and that feels miraculous in its own little way.
10/03 — some questions i have been asking myself recently: why do i do what i do? who for? why do i feel the need to hide some things and shout others from the rooftops? will i ever be vulnerable enough to tell someone [redacted]? will i ever be who i was again? do i want to? have i done enough? am i enough? what am i judging ‘enough’ by? when will i have done enough, said enough, loved enough? is there such a thing as having lived enough? can you ever be ready to die?
this poem has been rotating itself in my mind for the past week or so since i read it. just thinking about how it effortlessly describes the clumsiness of existence, breaking down expectations and regular ‘landmarks’ of life, and what is acceptable versus what is true.
small note: i do apologise for not editing the icon of this letter. i don’t have much of an excuse, but february did seem intent on getting me down and kicking me before i had the chance to get back up. i’ll be adding a new cover photo this month and catching up with february too.
thank you for your patience, and sending much love — we are all trying to get by in this funny little journey called life, and i hope this letter is a point of happiness in it.
till next time,
-august.