I feel like writing tonight. I don’t know what about, but I just feel like writing.

We have been reading an awesome book in our English class, Tropic of Orange, and I just got finished reading 2 chapters of it. Reading always puts me in a writing mood, makes me want to try my hand at writing as eloquently as the author.

But I don’t know.

I want to write some poetry. It’s been a long time since I wrote any poetry. According to Microsoft Word, I haven’t written a poem since June. I love poetry. It’s how I express my soul. I can’t draw or paint very well, listening to music doesn’t accomplish much, and playing music doesn’t make me feel very much either – so I write poetry instead.

Usually I look on it as a good sign that I haven’t written any poetry lately. I usually only write poetry when I’m feeling sad or depressed or overwhelmed or an emotion that is generally considered negative. But I want to learn to write poetry when I’m happy too. My poetry writing was born out of my 3 year depression back in middle school. I’ve never quite learned how to feel inspired when I’m not sad.

My piercings seem to be healing well. It’s been, what, like 3 days now??
I have to be careful not to obsess too much about their appearance. I’m honestly glad I can’t actually see my septum piercing. I can’t actually see where the jewelry goes through my nose. Because I can see my belly button piercing, and it looks funny. I think it’s a normal funny, but I still want to obsess over it, worry about it. And I have to tell myself no. My body will heal itself in its own time.

I can’t believe piercings take so long to heal. It’s only been 3 days but I feel like they should already be healed up by now. My friend’s tattoo is only supposed to take 2-4 weeks to heal…but I guess a hole through your body takes a little longer. My belly button is supposed to take 6 months at the minimum. Most sources say it won’t be fully healed and toughened until after a year.

Wow. A year. It seems like a long time, but at the same time, it seems like a short time. So much happens in one year. And I’m supposed to wear this jewelry all that time, never take it out. In a year I will become a junior in college, maybe if I’m lucky travel to turkey, maybe meet a boy, maybe make new friends. Who knows?? A lot happens in a year.

My septum is only supposed to take 3 months. 3 month isn’t that bad. It should be healed by Christmastime. My nose is still very sore. My nose tip hurts to touch, and I think the insides are still swollen as well. Having my septum pierced feels like I have boogers in my nose. Like I have a cold and the front of my nose is stuffed up and I can’t blow it. It’s a really strange feeling. Because I know my nose is not stuffed up, I know instead I have a curved barbell running through my septum.

I still haven’t gotten used to seeing myself.

I have to say I really love my septum piercing. I feel very pretty with it. I just want to stare at myself, at it, for hours – admiring the beauty of my piercing and how it looks on my face. That’s rather conceited though, so I purposefully don’t let myself start at my reflection. Hence, I still haven’t gotten used to my new appearance.

It’s started to get cold up here in Ohio. It’s a rather unpleasant reality. It was 41 degrees when I left for work this morning. It’s supposed to get down to 40 tonight. We have a frost advisory. A frost advisory!! Can you believe it?!? This early in September?!? (Though I suppose with yesterday being the “true” start of fall, it is more believable than at other times).

I just hate the cold. Especially with my septum pierced, the last thing I need is a runny nose because my face got too cold. I don’t even have that many jackets right now. I have 2, plus my old OSU hoodie. I’ll need to go to target sometime later when they have more stock and buy another jacket. I could’ve brought the ones I used last year, but I don’t know. They just didn’t seem to fit with myself. So they stayed at home.

And I need gloves. A pair that is thicker than your standard cheap, knit gloves. Those fall apart too easily anyways, what with me keeping my nails long. I need a pair that’s not too expensive, because I have a knack for losing gloves, but also stops the wind and won’t fall apart.

I don’t know why I’m talking about all this. Mostly just procrastinating going to bed I think. I should go to bed, try to get a full night’s sleep. But I don’t want to. I’m an insomniac who’s not. I have no trouble sleeping, I just don’t want to sleep. I feel like I’m missing out on life if I go to bed before midnight.

I am happy with myself right now. I tell you, it’s the septum piercing. I feel like a new person. A person who doesn’t care what other people think and just does what she wants to do, what makes her happy. That’s how I feel right now. It’s a good feeling. I want to keep it. Everyone should keep that feeling.

It’s liberating.


A Horribly Interesting Week

So I suppose I should finally get around to posting something on here. When was the last time I posted?? I can’t even remember, but this past week has been horribly eventful.

I had originally planned to post this past Sunday, but instead my life got interrupted by a fire drill, and 20 minutes later, by an evacuation. On Sunday night, a water main burst and flooded the electrical and sub-basement of my dorm. So they had to evacuate everyone until they could get all the water out and the electrical fixed.

I will admit, Sunday night was a little scary. At first I was just annoyed by the fire drill, but when they came out and told us we had to go back, grab only the essentials, and get out, it freaked me out a little. Especially when we had to go back in the building where the siren was still screeching, and the electricity had gone out. Just imagine this, being shepherded in a large group of people up to your respective floors, the fire alarm blaring in your ears, trying to pack up the essentials of your life by iPhone light, and still get out asap. It was almost like a scene from a movie.

So I’ve been crashing at my friend’s apartment for the past week. The first night, the refugees got to sleep in our gym, but no way was I about to sleep there. I’m lucky I have friends who don’t mind my inconvenient presence.

Wednesday evening we finally got the OK to move back into the dorm, but that was if you also wanted to put up with not being to shower there, not being able to brush your teeth or drink the water in the dorm, having no heating or air conditioning, not being allowed to open the windows, and not having any hot water. I’m sorry, I’m not living under those conditions. I’m too high-maintenance for that. So I have been bumming at my friend’s apartment technically longer than I should’ve. But they all agreed those were inappropriate conditions to move back to.

Alas, my refugee status has come to an end, because I’ll be moving back tomorrow. They finally got the hot water on and the safety of the water cleared, so I will be able to shower there – which means I have no excuse to be a bum on my friend’s couch anymore.

That’s exciting, no??

And last night, Thursday night, I did something a little spontaneous – I got pierced!!

Remember how, long ago, I posted my musings about my desire for a double belly button piercing?? Well I didn’t actually get the double piercing, but I did get my belly button pierced. And because there’s a 2-for-1 special on Thursdays, and I wasn’t getting 2 belly button piercings, I got my septum pierced instead!! Ah!!

Alright, let me tell you, the internet lies. I’m sure that comes as no surprise to y’all, but I googled how much septum piercings generally hurt before I got pierced. Most people said it hurt about as much as pulling a hair from your nose. Wrong!! Wrong wrong wrong wrong wrong. It hurt waaaaay more than that. My eyes watered up so much I might as well have been crying. Not to mention I ran out of exhale before the piercing was even done (they tell you to take a deep breath in and then exhale and that’s when they pierce you). Yeah, that little technique didn’t do much to mitigate the pain I’d say.

My belly button hurt, though not as much as my septum. I got my belly button done first in the hopes that the adrenaline rush might dull the pain of the septum. I don’t think it worked. But the piercing certainly wasn’t “painless” as my friend who also got pierced claimed. I know people have varying levels of pain tolerance, but I don’t care. That shit hurt.

The only advantage to the pain, is that it’s literally over in a couple of seconds.

After a day of being pierced, my belly button doesn’t hurt so much. I just have to be careful how I move or otherwise I’ll get a slight twinge of pain. I accidentally hit it this morning before I was “awake awake”…that hurt. That hurt a lot.

My septum is still really sore. My nose swoll up, it feels kind of like my nose is stuffed up from a cold. And my entire septum and tip of my nose is sore. I can’t even touch them. I have to be very careful to make sure I don’t forget about the piercing and accidentally wipe my nose or something, because that would be way more pain than I am willing to deal with.

Look!! Pictures!!








So yeah, this week has been very eventful. I hung out with my ex on Wednesday, though we didn’t spend as much time together as I would have preferred. Oh well. And I have to say, I don’t think my ex likes my septum piercing. He wouldn’t give me a straight answer about whether he liked it. Oh well. I will admit that I still seek his approval, but at the same time, his lack of approval is not going to stop me from doing the things I want.

Again, oh well.

I’m quite excited I get to sleep in tomorrow for the first time in about 3 weeks. I’m not excited that I have to do my sleeping-in on a couch/recliner. What can I say?? They’re not the most comfortable sleeping places. I generally wake up multiple times throughout the night.

What else is there??
Yesterday I also talked to my professor of my translation class about grad school. I don’t remember if I talked about this in my last post (it might not have even happened yet) but I finally talked to my major advisor and she recommended I talk to my professor. So I talked to her, and I still feel pretty in the dark. They both thought it would be more advantageous for me to talk to someone in the Near Eastern Language & Culture department than the Comparative Studies department, on account of the fact that I want to go to grad school for Ottoman Studies an not Comparative Literature.

So I emailed one of the people in the department today, a lady I will have classes with in the future most likely. She hasn’t emailed me back yet, but hopefully she will be able to help give me some direction in terms of what classes I should take and how I should be preparing myself.

I’ll keep my fingers crossed.

This post is getting long now, and I think I may be finally running out of things to say….well…that’s impossible but, I’m running out of interesting events from the past week. And I’m tired. Being a refugee is pretty hard work. Haha.


I have nothing to write about.

So I guess I feel a little better today, if only because I got things accomplished. Worked 7 1/2 hours, did some homework, and actually had a good conversation with my parents. I only had one true moment of sadness when I was eating raspberries and all the memories I have associated with them hit me like a ton of bricks.

(It’s hard to explain, but me and my ex had a thing for raspberries. It was the first food word we both learned in Turkish [ahududu] because it’s so silly, and we have several memories centered around eating them. In fact, I used to call my ex “my raspberry” occasionally.)

After I used the word “aghast” today in conversation with my parents, they commented on how I tend to talk like I’m in a book. So in order to perpetuate that impression, I have decided to revive a practice of mine from high school: word journaling.

When I come across a word I don’t know when reading, I write the word down and later define it in my word journal. I have an immense love for words and this is a great way for me to expand my vocabulary some more. I must say the dictionary on my smart phone has made me lazy, but no more. Writing words down is the best way for me to learn them.


Yeah I don’t know what to write about. My first (okay technically second) sentence of this post literally summarized my entire day. This weekend has been pretty boring in terms of actually doing stuff.


Okay, I’ve literally been sitting here for 15 minutes just trying to think of something to write about, and I’ve got nothing. I wouldn’t say I have a serious case of writer’s block, just a serious case of an uninteresting life.



My sleeping schedule has been so erratic lately, I apologize for the lack of posts.

I must admit however, that I don’t really feel like writing much anymore. Everything I have to talk about is negative, and talking gets me nowhere. I’m tired of talking. I’d rather just sulk in silence.

Tuesday night, almost immediately after writing my last post, I was snuggled up in bed when I got a call from my ex wanting to hang out. I decided what the hell, and we had a great night. I didn’t go to bed until 4 AM that night. We had a lot of fun.

But on Friday, my ex upset me a lot. He decided not to sit next to me in class, which isn’t really a big deal. I can handle that. He had to share his book with another girl in class. That’s not a big deal either. I can handle that as well. What I couldn’t handle, was sitting there watching him flirt with this girl the entire time. I understand he has a flirty personality, he may not have even realized he came off that way. But he did. Sitting there watching him act the way he used to act with me, with another girl, was extremely painful. And it upset me.

And my ex realized I was upset. He asked me what was wrong. But I refused to talk about it with him. Partly because I don’t really have the right to be upset with him, seeing as how we aren’t dating anymore. Partly because I just didn’t want to talk about it with him.

I wonder if I made the right choice. Maybe I should’ve told him what was wrong. Guys are stupid. He probably didn’t figure out that he was the reason I was upset. But still, I probably made the right choice. Talking about it would’ve just opened a painful can of worms that neither of us wants to deal with.

I don’t know how to interpret his actions. It’s been almost a week since he texted me to just see how things were. We had such a great night Tuesday, and now this. I feel like there must be something wrong with me. Maybe I’m reading too much into it. Maybe he’s just busy, and forgetful. But then again, maybe he just really doesn’t care all that much about me.

I feel so down on myself, and I don’t know how to stop. I wish I knew clearly how my ex felt about me. That would make things so much easier. Then I could stop analyzing, and get on with my life.

I’m stuck in a hard place, because suddenly I find myself both wanting to and not wanting to be in a relationship with him. One moment I have the attitude of “I don’t care at all about him” and the next, he’s all I can think about. I can’t get him out of my head regardless, and it’s wearing me down.

I guess I just feel kind of drained, physically and emotionally. I haven’t gotten a full night’s sleep since labor day, and I won’t get one for the next 2 weeks. I’ve got a yeast infection and the medicine the doctor gave me makes me feel nauseous and bloated all the time (sorry if that’s TMI). I have the largest amount of schoolwork this semester that I’ve had since I started college. Add all my emotional turmoil on top of those things and I feel like I’m burning the candlestick at both ends.

I just want to feel important to someone. It honestly makes me sad when I’ve been at work all day, and no one has texted me just to see how things are, or to tell me something. It makes me sad when no one chats me or messages me on facebook. I just feel like I’m not that important. And I guess you could come at the angle that if I really wanted people to talk to me that badly, I should just initiate the conversation myself – to have a friend, you have to be friend – but I just want someone to take the initiative for once, show me they care.

I’m tempted to start publicizing this blog to my facebook, in hopes one of my friends will read it and care. But I know that’s just a desperate ploy for attention, and I don’t really want my friends reading this blog anyways. I don’t really want my friends to know what I’m struggling with, or the intimate details of my thoughts.

But is it really a crime to want a little attention??

I try to dress really nicely, but people rarely compliment me. According to my ex, tons of people think I’m amazingly gorgeous, but no one bothers to tell me. On the rare occasion I actually put a picture of myself on the internet, no one bothers to compliment it either.

I’m a fucking attention whore. And I’m disgusted with myself because of it. I don’t even want to tell you all the things I’ve done in my life just to get a little attention. I don’t want to explain to you how manipulative I can be – all for a little attention.

I’m tired now. I have to get up early tomorrow to go to work. Maybe after some sleep, I’ll wake up feeling a little better about myself, feeling a little better about life.

But then again, maybe I won’t.

Fate is not benevolent.

So tonight I watched Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. It’s a movie my ex tried to get me to watch several times when we were dating, but I kept falling asleep during it. So tonight, I finally watched it.

I probably wouldn’t have watched it if I had known it was going to make me cry so much. It brought back so many memories of my ex. It made me miss everything.

The one thing I took away from that movie was the idea that if 2 people are meant to be together, they will be. These characters, even after having their memories of each other erased, still found each other again.

And so I’m stuck, like many night previously, wondering about the nature of fate and debating its existence.

Fate is such an easy concept to believe in. It essentially removes all responsibility from the human. Suddenly nothing is your fault, it was just fate.

But you only have to read that once to know that’s a stupid idea. So why then, is the idea of fate still so tantalizing??

I guess because it gives one something to trust in when everything else seems to be falling apart. I think we need to distinguish though between the 2 separate ideas of fate, and the belief that “everything will work out in the end”. I think those 2 ideas are often used synonymously or in conjunction with each other.

But that’s not right. That implies that fate is some sort of benevolent factor. Fate is not feeling, fate is neither benevolent nor malevolent. It just is. When fate comes in to play, things don’t always turn out okay in the end.

So I guess when I sit here debating the nature and existence of “fate”, what I’m really debating is the concept of “everything will turn out okay in the end”.

Because for me, the idea of fate the idea of karma, are not that different from one another. I believe in karma, so believing in an emotionless, unfeeling fate isn’t that difficult. Believing that there’s some sort of benevolent undercurrent to sequence of events in one’s life, is.

I don’t know what I’m getting at here. Certainly not an answer. I’m still just as mystified by that question as I’ve ever been.

And I suppose I always will be. Because fate can’t be proven. And I feel like evidence for fate is one of those situations where you have to believe in it first before any evidence ever comes to light.

Does that make sense??

I don’t know. Add your two cents. I’m going to bed.


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