:3

The more I try to pinpoint exactly what I mean, and the more I try to write something profound and deeply moving, the further this aim evades me. 

I like the color yellow a lot, I don’t know why. My bedroom when I was little was sponge-painted yellow. I think this might be the root of my attachment to this color. I’ve also heard that yellow is a happy and serene color, although I’d never really thought of it that way, I’d never looked at it that way. But I see it now, for sure—I see the mood boost and upliftment that the color effectuates in me. I don’t feel this way when I look at blue, or green, or purple (ugh—purple. Purple is my least favorite, due to very unfortunate circumstances and bad blood, negative interpersonal stuff. Other than that, it’s actually a very royal and majestic and noble color; it’s marvelous). And I don’t feel happy when I look at brown or white, or black, either. Or pink. But a custard-looking color, a mellow yellowy color, does the trick for me. I’m not sure whether this affinity is indeed due to my having heard that “yellow is a happy color.” I suspect that this induced joy and relief is only a placebo effect, indeed. But this shadow effect or ‘dummy effect’ seems to be a real measurable thing for me – I do get happier with yellow. 

I don’t really watch tv or ‘take in’ any current events. Not really. I mean I’m not a very political person, or a newsy person. I know that sounds miserable and inexcusable. I mean I guess I like to keep up with news about Sudan, where I’m from. And I like to keep up with international news about Muslims and the goings on in their environments—how they’re relating to their immediate worlds, and the challenges they face in their respective fields and lives. (I come from a Muslim background, myself.) I guess I also like to ‘take in’ news about poets, writers, illustrators, visual artists, musicians, actors, and others in the creative sector. (Real, serious news about them–news about their work, and how they relate to new projects and undertakings in their creative professions, and etc.) I suppose I also have a strong interest in certain social issues. I tend to avoid the overly politicized stories and coverages, though. I tend to opt for long-form journalism, essays, books, and documentaries, for knowledge and insight into social issues and their effects on wider society. And so I tend to engage with “slow” journalism and slow media for insight and for real knowledge on societal issues. I actually barely take in daily news on a regular basis, the daily news cycle. I sense that the delivery and some of the effects of it tend to get a bit negative at times, as might happen with any constant practice. It can lose a sense of warmth, after a while; it’s not something I’d want to keep up with on a regular basis. I eventually pick up on the more-important stories and current events, though; I realize them a little while after they’ve happened.

| I’m currently a little bit confused about certain things, and I sometimes start to feel a little bit empty and hollow. I really like the book Letters To A Young Madman, by Paul Gruchow—it’s quite good, it’s highly relatable. I often feel that women are better at writing confessionally and lyrically than men are, but Gruchow excels at it. I’m not sure why things like clinical depression, schizophrenia, and schizoaffective disorder exist. It seems that they offer no inherent advantage to the sufferers or to the human race, and so it seems that evolution (and natural selection) should have eradicated these maladies from existence. And yet they linger on very prominently, I don’t know why. I don’t know why any illness or negative individual condition exists. They’re difficult, and they take a toll on the sufferers and their families, and wider society.

I’m a little bit confused. I don’t really understand why my life is the way it is, or why everyone else in similar situations have found themselves there, either. It’s funny how things work out, it’s weird.

I really like the book The House On Mango Street, by Sandra Cisneros; it’s one of my favorite short story collections, vignette collections. Was it autobiographical fiction? I think the book might have been based on the author’s life, at least to some extent. I especially like the section that’s titled “Darius and the Clouds.” I think it’s exceptionally sharp and concise—it’s clear in such a way that it formulates many nuances in addition to its ostensible meaning. And it evokes a lot of meaningfulness, in a short span of time.

| I’m a little bit off and not fully there, I guess; I’m in my own world 90% of the time. I have to remember to make a concerted effort to get my basic chores and personal responsibilities done throughout the day. This probably stems from a separate issue, though; it’s not due to being in my own sphere and headspace.