In December, on some cold and rainy days. I was sitting on dusty shelves at a kind of old store. I see people enter and leave the store every day. Until she came with her mother. She was consulting me. she said, mum! I want this one. And here is my story begins. Hey!! I am Eddie. I am just a teddy bear in the human world. I will not forget that day when I arrived at Charlie's home. It was a home of lovely family. It was a family of four members. Charlie, Rachel, jake and Lydia. I was sitting at Lydia's room. She was taking me whenever she is going. Her room was utterly cozy especially her soft blanket. One day, I was with Lydia in the garden. There was a snow crystal that was falling down on her slowly. Until I heard a voice that saying out loud, Lydia!! Come here the dinner is ready! I observed something when we got into home. There was a beautiful smell of fresh bread coming from the kitchen. I was sitting with Lydia and her family. They were eating and having fun. The vibrations emanating from their chests were unfamiliar yet strangely comforting. Their eyes seemed to sparkle with a joyful energy I couldn't quite comprehend. After dinner, everyone went to bed because Lydia and jake have to go to school tomorrow. In Lydia's room there were posters everywhere on walls she was hanging a vision board with her goals and dreams. She wants to be an astronomer. She was spending hours researching astronomy and discussing theories with enthusiasm. She always loved learning things about space and universe. And she always wondered if there is another earth in other galaxies that humans live in or not. In the next day I was sitting on the sofa, and I suddenly I saw a dog running towards me, but he was cute. Charlies' family was having a pet which is a lovely dog. Rachel always loved her dog. She was very kind to him and played with him. After Lydia and jake came from school they ate lunch with the family and after that they headed in their rooms. Lydia had a great skills and hobbies. Lydia's fingers danced across the canvas; her eyes focused intently on the masterpiece taking shape. I love the way she can draw and the way she holds her pencil, her vibrant colors of her drawings and being creative at her drawings. At once she decided to draw me and it was absolutely beautiful! At night the family decided to go out to smell some fresh air and engaging in joyful revelry. And of course, Lydia took me with her. I was surprised when I saw the streets and people. I saw other families, couples, friends and diversity in relationships and all of them were Facinating. They went to a place to drink something hot to keep them warm. Lydia took hot chocolate. I loved the smell of hot coco and how Lydia was holding the cup with her hands to keep herself warmer. On our way back home. It was raining. Everyone was running and holds an umbrella. But I was enjoying the smell of rain when it hits the dusty roads. After years everything changed. I observed Lydia and jake growing. It was magical thing for me to see someone I live with grows in front of my eyes. It was Lydia's the seventeen birthdays. Her family was organizing everything to surprise her, and they invited her friends. Lydia was out and when she came, they surprised her saying. Happy birthday!! She was very happy with the gifts, but I felt that there something wrong with her and I was right. When the birthday ends, and everyone left. She was sitting in her room, and she was sad because her best friend didn't come. It was my first time to see Lydia sad like this way. I figured that the absence of a loved one, even for a seemingly trivial reason, can cause significant emotional distress. But after this sadness her best friend call her, and she explained why she didn't come. And after this call her spirit had raised honestly. And she suddenly hugged me. There was a warmth of this hug. Jake always loved playing guitar. He was playing it since he was 11 years, jake was having a competition of playing guitar. He was very nervous because he trained for this competition very hard, and it meant a lot to him. His family went to the competition with jake to encourage him. When we arrived, he was nervous because he was fearing from failure. But Charlie tried to calm him down saying, “there is only one thing that makes a dream impossible to achieve: the fear of failure! After these words jake has encouraged and he played confidently. He was amazing playing this guitar. And he won the first place! He deserved it. From the dusty shelves to the heart of a home. I've witnessed life unfold in its myriad hues. Joy, sorrow, hope, and fear - a tapestry woven with every human thread. In Lydia's laughter and tears, in Jake's triumphs and anxieties, I've glimpsed the depth and complexity of the human soul. Though I am but an inanimate object, I carry within me the echoes of their lives, a testament to the extraordinary nature of being human.

I look over the students one at a time: there sits the one with yellow blouse, long dark hair, there the two (seem to be intimate friends) one with yellow short hair, blue eyes, with a short with a knot and the one with black curly hair with imposed facial expression, engaged in an animated conversation in low tone, looking over me once in a while. With Black hair, like a straw, and an oddly matched blouse and a skirt, I feel intimidated inside ‘will i ever get to be friends with them?'. Part of me propels me to think so, because it craved for such friendship so long after the lockdown. My storming thoughts are fueled by Tim – our English teacher at this education center – as well as the founder, leaving me with the question ‘Will I ever get to be a good student of his?'. ‘I'm not coming for the next lesson' I say, with fear piercing through my mind. ‘I wanted to try out another education center, but if I don't like it, can I come back?' Maybe because I was trying my best to be a responsible, honest, and loyal student, or maybe because I expected him to confirm that he is okay with that because he is sure of the quality of education he is providing for students, I was struck when he said ‘no' that easily. ‘You can go, but then you have to leave, we don't take back students who left us'. While part of me grew outrageous for his unfair and biased judgment, I couldn't resist the fear of losing a teacher, even if he doesn't seem to be promising. ‘Why not?' I go on. ‘Because this is how it works'. I had sort of promised myself not to expect anything from anyone after my big disappointment from my other education center teacher, whom I overly respected, who I saw as one of the closest people to myself that I expected him to care about. At least I was his best student before quarantine. At least he had taught me for 2 years. At least for the sake of all the laughter and jokes we shared with my groupmates and that teacher. But when the quarantine started, when my world turned upside down, I realized that it was all my fantasy – a teacher caring for a student. It was only after I fought with my bias and realized that a teacher is just a teacher and a student is just a student – expect no more, and if you don't pay, you're now not even a student, you're an outsider. Therefore I had sort of promised myself not to expect anything from any teacher other than just the lesson, but still the easiness that that ‘no' came with once hit me hard, extinguishing my last bit of hope towards intimacy, kindness, and caring for others. As I go home, I nail to myself over and over again my father's words “in this world, nobody but your family (parents, grandparents and siblings), cares for you”. ‘Well, maybe this is becoming strong – you accept there is nothing like proximity, kindness, and care in your relationships with others''. I was totally tired. Tired of believing in the existence of love of teachers, friends, other than family members. I accepted. In this world, everybody is for themselves. This black and white is what the world is. I learned to be cold and keep the distance with others all the time. Until I met my other English teacher, who is now a motherly figure for me. She melted the ice in my heart and convinced me that we're not just teacher and student in the classroom and strangers outside it, but we remain teacher and student anytime, anywhere, and in any case. She convinced me that I could actually turn to my teachers, friends, not just my family when tough times come. I was hesitant as to her intimacy in the beginning after it all happened. But over her closeness with her other students, caring for them like their mother, and trying to bond the students and make them like siblings, I felt love, care, and kindness. The image that my father described, my experience with previous teachers echoed, the one that is black and white became full of color – vibrant colors. Today, I look back and always try to remind myself, when I'm struggling with my academics, that there is love, care, and kindness; life is not just black and white. True, not everyone can paint it, but that doesn't necessarily mean people who can bring colour don't exist. They do, you just need to keep believing in and meeting them someday.

It's the first thing I see when I sink my toes into the warm sand of the beach in Cancun. Not the children I hear splashing around on the beach nor the shutters of a camera, coming to life with a startling burst that only lasts for a second. But the crash of the waves. The shimmering hues of blues and greens that bleed into each other seamlessly, extending outward in a never-ending path towards the horizon. Every inch of it basking in the sunlight. ‘The ocean.' It's breathtaking, and I can't help but gasp as I stare at it, the sight unreal as I take it all in. I've never felt so eager to do anything as I'm feeling now, wanting to jump into it's depths and let the ocean take me wherever it wants to go. So I leave my parents behind and run towards the lapping water of the ocean, tossing my slippers into the air and jumping into it. It's a magical moment, falling into the ocean's embrace. Feeling the pressure of the water as it greets me with a cold kiss. For the past two years the only body of water I'd seen was the pool that my mother and I used to go and swim at every week. But it was never the same. It was too calm, lacking the ferocity of the ocean that I'd cherished. ‘I missed you.' I surface out of the ocean, pulling out of its embrace. I feel the salty water trailing down my face as if wanting me to dunk my face back in. ‘Patience, I just need a breath.' But as I look ahead of me and see a series of waves rolling out towards me, I know that patience is the last thing on the ocean's mind. I smile. ‘I guess you don't think I've got the guts, ocean.' And so despite my father's yells to stay with him, I swim further and further from shore, a slave to the call of the ocean as it beckons me into its depths. ‘I want to go further.' It's like a rollercoaster as the waves lift me and I feel a rush of exhilaration as I let the ocean drag me into its depths. ‘I wouldn't mind if you just took me with you and made me yours.' But I quell this desire as I think about my parents. The future ahead of me. The ocean is one of those things that makes me forget everything around me, which is often why I have to remind myself to remember. The pain of my past vanquishing as soon as I set my eyes on it. The desire to dissolve in it as I relish it's presence, the feel of the cool water like a caress. ‘I've never felt so envious of salt.' And despite the fact that the ocean has taken countless people's lives, those that had made the mistake to succumb to its lull, it's one of those things that I would willingly leave everything to be beside every moment of my life. ‘I'm in love with the ferocity of the ocean.' I don't know very much about it, but I'm in love with every inch of it from the depths of my heart. And I've always had the desire to reach the bottom of it. To greet a humpback angler fish or a fang tooth. To see those beautiful and fascinating underwater creatures that everyone else calls terrifying. But how can we judge if when we haven't even met these creatures? It's kind of like how humans tend to view everything through a biased frame, one devoid of love or acceptance. But that's what I love about the ocean. Because unlike how Uranus banished the Giants, the ocean is accepting and generous to the creatures it gives home to, regardless of their characteristics. I reluctantly pry my gaze away from the ocean and let my eyes linger on the sky as I pump my arms to stay afloat. The bright sun has dipped lower into the sky and the path of maroons and violets that the absence of the fiery orb has left behind tell me all that I need to know. It's as if the sky was giving me a warning, a warning that's reaffirmed by my father yelling, “It's time to go!” When I turn my head, I see my mother waving at me, beckoning me to come back to shore. I feel a rush of sorrow at the thought of leaving the ocean, the thought that all I'll have of the ocean is a figment of my memory, of my imagination. ‘I just reunited with you hours ago.' I shake my head and ask my parents for a few more minutes but they say I need to get ready for dinner. I stay there and float in the middle of the ocean for a few seconds, feeling the salty wetness of the ocean all over my skin, but I relent when I hear my mother yelling my name. I feel the pull of the ocean on my clothes as I wade back to shore, as if the ocean doesn't want me to leave either. Waves start crashing madly against the rocks as I step back onto the sand. ‘I'll be back,' I think at the ocean in an effort to calm it. But I don't know if I will.

In 1992, due to my mom's failing health conditions, she moved in with me. Not long after, she was diagnosed with dementia. I suspected as much since I noticed a change in her dwindling memory. While dementia / Alzheimer's is nothing to be taken lightly, what I didn't realize at the time was that mom's health condition helped me provide her with better care. Mom was soon in a wheelchair. I'll get to why that helped in a minute. Mom's dementia raced through her brain and within last two years of her life, she was completely non-verbal. (I'm also getting to that.) Mom's been gone four years now and not a day goes by that I don't wish I could do it all over again. I miss her with all my heart. While I no longer have my mom, I was given another option. A few months ago, an ad by a local gentleman was posted in our community online newsletter looking for help with his wife who has dementia. I thought I'd apply for the position since I'd taken care of mom. Mr. J was impressed with what I offered and hired me immediately. Here's where his wife differs from my mom. Mom was unable to walk. Ann can. Mom was non-verbal. Ann is somewhat verbal. Mom was very placid. Ann is most of the time but not always. If mom's imagination still existed, she didn't have the capability to show it. Ann's is and she does. Now I'll elaborate. While mom couldn't walk and Ann can, I always knew where mom was. Ann seems to have a problem sitting still for more than ten minutes unless she's eating lunch. She wanders around constantly moving anything within her reach. That's okay but all too often, she'll move her husband's laptop and important business papers. No matter where he puts them, she'll find and move them. I'm thankful their home is small. Like all homes, there are two doors: front and back. Mr. J. found it necessary to put in a second deadbolt lock in the back door that is just above Ann's reach. I count my blessings each time I'm there as Ann tries constantly to walk out the door to “go home”. I keep inventing reasons why she shouldn't be leaving the house. I tried once telling her she was home and that didn't make her at all happy. I changed tactics and said we needed to wait for her husband since he had the key to the car. That calms her down. Don't misunderstand me. Ann and I leave the house and walk around the community several times a day, but she's determined that she needs to, as I said, “go home”. She surely keeps me on my toes. The second issue is speech. Mom's speech quickly became nonexistent, as if she had no vocal chords at all. Mom never uttered one sound. Ann, on the other hand, can utter a few words but most of what she tries to say is nothing more than buzzing sounds. I know she thinks she's speaking intelligently, but in reality, what anyone would hear is: “And that one, bzzzz, bzzz, bzzzz.” I have to study her facial expressions to have an idea of whom and what she's referring to and wonder, has it made her happy, confused, or angry and then reply with, “Oh Wow! I didn't know that!” Then Ann will say, “Yeah!” We have some strange conversations that only she really understands. Ann has also exhibited a few minor anger issues. She has a stuffed toy that she loves – sometimes. She'll cradle the toy as though it were a small child. She'll sing to it, speak to it, and often hold her imaginary conversations with it. On a few rare occasions, she'll buzz-ask the toy a question. No answer. (Reminder: it is a stuffed toy that can't speak) She'll ask again. Still no answer. This might go on for a few minutes and with each time, Ann waits for an answer that won't come, her patience wanes until finally, she snaps. She'll grab the toy by the head and shake it violently while demanding an answer, “Speak to me” “Speak to me”. When no answer comes, she abruptly stands up, still tightly holding the toy by its head, and slams it down on another chair and curtly says, “Then don't answer me! Bzzzz,, Bzzzz Bzzz.” By the time, this tirade is over (usually no more than five minutes), I've retrieved a piece of chocolate and when she turns to me, I say pleasantly, “Oh Ann! Look what I've found. I think you'll like this.” She accepts the candy, sits down next to me, and picks up her small photo album and points to each photo buzzing its description. Ann is, for the most part, a delight to care for. Easy? Not at all. Pleasant? Most of the time. Would I stop going to see her? Absolutely not! The other day right before I made her lunch, I suggested she wash her hands. She did. I stood next to her with a towel. Her eyes lit up as if I'd given her a great gift. She smiled, dried her hands and said, “Thank you. You're the sweetest lady.” And then she hugged me. It was the highlight of the day! While Ann in her own way can be much more difficult than my mom had been, she could do something my mom was unable to do. She hugged me.

Who am I. What right do I have to feel this way. Millions have died, some struggling to live, while others going through the most ineffable sufferings. Precious and dear lives have been snatched away by a very well-known adversary, death. Yet still, here I am, with the mere audacity to feel what I consider as - sadness? Here I am, with the absurdity of my emotions and the insanity of my thoughts. I have been in this deep, dark pit too before: shutting out any form of light and reveling in my own emptiness. It was that way until someone was brave enough to venture into the pit and save me. Well, it's different now. Social interactions are now perilous in such a way that it must be avoided at all times. Our natural desire for consolation and comfort in tough times was shifted to simply video calling and messaging. As convenient as it may seem, months with almost zero human contact turned out exasperating and troublesome. I, for one, deeply sunk into my own personal bubble where it seemed like there was no one else but me – no one to save me this time. All these humanitarian disasters, social crises, and global conflicts are unraveling in front of my very eyes. In all honesty, my so-called “problems” are trivial and insignificant in comparison to the chaos of this world. Stressing over the lack of food while others long for at least a biscuit to munch on. Complaining about my pathetic life when others are mourning over the loss of their loved one and fighting for their lives. Although I hate to admit, it is extremely tempting to just overlook all these and focus on my situation – to cancel out the noise in my surroundings. Indeed, these inherent instincts of mine start to kick in. Several news on social media do not seem to bother me as much as I believe it should. It became a personal struggle for me to remain alert on all the contemporary issues while handling my very own issues. After all this, I have come to a realization. I am not to let my pride and selfishness get in the way and cloud my judgement. I should not neglect the important things in these world just because of my needs. However, on the other side of the spectrum, any emotion or feeling that we may experience must not be disregarded and just pushed to the side. We are human beings with natural tendencies to feel sadness, anger, and confusion. Our very existence validates it. Although setting these aside may appear like the simplest and most apparent thing to do, we are unknowingly causing ourselves more harm than good. The first step we must take is to fully accept all these negative things as part of ourselves. Personally, I was caught up distracting myself from all the sadness until it consumed me, bit by bit. I forced myself to become happy, believing that being sad was not and should not be an option for me. I detested the feeling of extreme loneliness and somehow wished I'd never felt that way, which eventually led to hatred towards myself. “I don't deserve to be sad because of some stupid and petty reasons.” “I need to be happy, so others around me can be happy.” I tried, but no matter how much effort I put in, it would never truly work. Sadness, depression, anxiety, among many others, does not just simply disappear. Acknowledging my emotions played a huge role in this battle, realizing that it is okay to not be okay. Small steps toward the goal may not be a lot, but together they contribute to being completely “okay”. Even if it is as simple as taking care of yourself or doing something you love, do it. If it's listening to music or reading that book you've always wanted to read, do it. It is all about how we deal with what we feel that matters. When I chose to put it aside, it was still there and I never overcame it. Recognize it, face it, and let go of it – that makes all the difference. My worth is not defined by what I feel, I know that now. The reality is this – we are all human beings with our own varying problems and circumstances. Some are at the very peak, enjoying the best times of their life, while others their lowest and darkest times. Everyone has their own timelines; we must never compare our failures to others' successes. Who am I? Well, I am me – a daughter of the King of Kings and that is enough. What right do I have to feel this way? I have every right. My emotions are valid, and yours are too.

Once scared, once hurt, once used, once betrayed, never trusts again. The emotional rollercoaster one goes through along this process is immensely exhausting to the point they don't want to try it again in the fear that it could end in failure again. A broken heart shatters into pieces like glass, it takes time and struggle to be put back together but nonetheless it's still broken, the cracks still there, sure it's been glued together and fixed like putting puzzle pieces together but in the end, it's just one touch away from breaking down again. Trusting some the first time is easy cause you've hot nothing to lose but trusting again is tough, cause you've experienced the loss and the eminent pain is something that can't just be erased from one's mind. So when that person prepares themselves to trust again, they know the consequences, they know they could potentially face failure but they still try, ready to embrace the pain all over again if it's a hoax again just because of that glimmer of hope that this time maybe it'll be different. But no one can live life with being scared, no one can move ahead without experiencing pain or hurt, in order to get to the end of the rainbow, one has to struggle, so try, maybe not today but someday, when you feel a sense of sincerity in a kind heart. But till then, love yourself.

Life is so uncertain, actually everything that happens is uncertain. Everything was going well like business, economy, works, exams and suddenly all things got paused because of small virus - corona virus/ covid-19. So my life during lock-down consist of happiness, sadness, loneliness, and ya was exhausting sometime. I got chance to learn so much new things and some moments were so stressful as well. Everything was going okay but one evening my dad received call from my uncle. He was having fever and was really sick. So he was planning to go Chitwan for further checkup and wanted my dad to go there from Kathmandu. Doctors referred to Hospitals of Kathmandu so they came here next day. Soon after they came various check ups were done and because of unknown reason there reports came late than expected period of time. We were really afraid what might happen now. We had already tested for covid-19 and fortunately results were negative. Still he was having continuous fever and cough. But soon his right part of the body like right legs, right hands were so weak that it was being hard for him to walk and eat as well as speak. Doctor said that physiotherapy can help so he started but time passed and no any improvement were seen. Everyone in the family were tensed. Nothing was working well. Business were shut down because of lock-down, uncles condition was getting worse, me and my sibling were at home since more than three months as colleges and schools were closed. Nothing was going good. Later report came and it was shocking for all of us. It was cancer. And soon they decided to go Delhi, India for further treatment- my dad, uncle and aunt.Despite the increasing cases of covid-19 and specially in India it was really a tough decision but getting scared and loosing life is really not an option. So we have to take risk sometime in hope that something good might happen. Somehow they manged tickets and went there. Currently they are in Delhi doing treatment. So this one of the most stressful period. During this period I also learned so many things. I always have been an introvert but I realized that we also need some social connection. Being around friend surely helps to uplift the mood though you don't like being with them all the time. I tried various recipes from You-tube and guess what they turned out to be good. So I decided to try painting as well and I soon realized it was not my cup of tea at all. Also I did various online courses on mental health and I am glad I did them. Learning about various things has always been my passion. And I am here trying my writing skills. I realized that various unexpected things happen. But we should have positive attitude within us to deal with those things. We have been so busy an we got free time to know our self in this lock-down period. So just explore thing and seeking for new things helps to please your soul and provide good vibes. It is really important to have balance in various things like work, family, relationship, etc. The time we got was really necessary to take a break from that tight schedule. I spend my day with family, talked about childhood of my parents, listened their stupid jokes, helped my siblings, tried things that I never could because of lack of time then. Sometime there were arguments but there were care and love hidden inside it. The bond with family became much more stronger though there were some arguments and all. We created special moments that will never be forgotten for rest of our lives. The unity and support was the most required thing because being lonely and not trying anything new can be really dangerous for my soul at least. So all those are my experience and opinion about the quarantine. There were good times, there were bad times. There were moments where all family used to sit in drawing room and laugh, forget everything that was happening. There were also moments where everything and everyone seemed to be blanked. There were time where I was learning new things and there were times when I was struggling with some old things. But what i think important is that I learned how to cope with all those things, how precious are the things that I used to take it for granted.I have learned to appreciate and also what i have learned is gratitude. Bad things will happen in life but what I believe is being positive is important. If you have any problem, seek help, try to trust your loved ones, believe in yourself, keep your faith in god and carry what you are doing if you believe that the things you know, is not harming yourself and others as well. Peace of mind, a good and correct information, patience, love, self-respect and hard-work are most powerful tools of life that I believe I sensed or we can say learned in this quarantine period. Now I am ready to tackle any problem with a smile though I would panic sometime and that would be completely okay cause I know I have people by my side and they always will be.

I used to see anger like rolling thunder—precluded with curling, spitting skies, and a rumble so deafening your heart would quiver. A warning, a war cry, a natural effect of collision. A countdown to the final blow. I've been a bag of emotions lately. The predominant feeling I'm longing to tackle is this anger, but I have found that it's something of a nine-headed beast that isn't always easily identifiable—namely, it's been my method of coping and dealing with everything, no matter the true emotion lurking meekly beneath the fury. I have come to find that it's quieter counterpart to thunder. It's splitting strokes of lightning, young threads pulsing through my own currents. My actions are an attempt to discharge it, and I only cause more collisions, more bolts swirling in my dark matter. I yell, say words that sting, unhinge my jaw and sink my teeth unto the helpless—and I create more friction, therein, I never feel better. This isn't a pity party, although I am apt to throw one of those a little too often. In my existential quest to attempt self-discovery and find my ultimate purpose as a microbial being living on a dust mote in this expansive, never-ending universe—I've found a little something at the crescendo of these furious storms. A birds eye view of my past, my present, and even a smudge of my future. Is it indulgent to say that this all started with my own parents? A little, because I would like to think that it's not my fault. Yet, so would they—nothing was ever their fault, they don't remember, it was out of their control, and if they did mean it, you deserved it. In my childhood, you obeyed anger, but you were never allowed to be angry. If something bad happened, you forgave and never held a grudge. My present has been a hallowing and humbling look at cause and effect. There are twenty-seven known human emotions and I am still so angry. I am angry... When I am marginally inconvenienced. When I am anxious and don't feel safe. When I am failing and frustrated. When I am not feeling heard. When I am in pain. When my boundaries are crossed. When something is wrong. That's when I've realized that maybe I'm not actually feeling angry all the time, but rather, reacting angrily when I am on red alert. It's not bad to be angry, although it can be a mistake to react in anger. Anger tells you that something isn't right, it jumpstarts the fight or flight instincts in you and forces you to make a choice. We can't always see through the storm, though. Sometimes, we have to make a plan and wait it out. Intuitively, I know that I need to move myself out of the path of destruction. This means realizing that I need to take responsibility for my actions, for my feelings, and for the way I treat others. The time has passed for a relationship with my parents, but I can draw from our interactions as a guideline on how not to treat others. I can learn that forgiveness and boundaries happily co-exist. That being angry can drive change, but reacting angrily drives people away. I'm deciding to replace my hostile words and reactions with grit. When I am failing, frustrated, or inconvenienced, I will persevere. When I am anxious, not feeling heard, in pain, I will have courage. When boundaries are crossed, when something is wrong, when it's not safe, I will follow through and do the right thing. When I eventually find all of these things to be difficult to do, I will be resilient. And maybe—just maybe, I'll discover shimmering pearls swirling underneath.

Having Anger to Tea Hey there, Good Morning! You! Yes, You! I See You Lurking. Ha,Ha! But there is no need, Dear One. I would like to invite you in for a cup of tea. I See the shock and mistrust on Your Face. I don't blame You. I've treated You like a “Redheaded Stepchild”, As the Country Folk like to say. Really, though, thanks for giving me some Time Alone. You do wear a person out. Now don't get riled up! JK! I'll stop. I thought humor might Lighten things up a bit. But we will leave the Dawn to that task Here, I will come Outside in the Shadows with You. Aaah, what a Gorgeous Morning! That Breeze is Delightful. It was the Tree Frog in my Garden that Woke Me. I wasn't even irritated upon waking. Just curious as I woke up Light and Mellow And I wondered what it was that caused this Delicious Awakening. So Anger, You are an Intense Girl. But I Love You. Yes, You. You are Real. You Exist. You Exist for a reason. I just wanted that said, Straight Out. Now I would like to Give You a Chance to say something. How about I meditate, Go Head, Heart, Hara, then come back. Was that Roar on the Breeze a Sign of your discontent? I am staying Outside with You. I meant “back” as in back from within myself. So where have you been, my Friend? I asked my mind and it said “She's been here all along. She can snap at any minute.” Well, my Monkey Mind didn't even get a Banana, As that wasn't very nice. My Heart. My Heart said That I am addicted to You. Chemical responses emitted due to Your Presence. Affecting my Dopamine Receptors. Kind of Heavy for Heart. More of a Mind response… And then I went to Hara. Where of course it all made sense. The Hara allowed Your Voice to come through. And I heard Your Response. “I am Love.” Which at first I didn't get. But after a Moment's Reflection I realized all three, Mind, Heart and Hara, were correct. You have been here all along. And You certainly could snap at any time. But I don't think You will. I know You are born from Fear and Hurt. And that I fed You what We thought You Needed. And You became an addict Yourself. But I am Softening You back into Love. Back to Source. I am allowing the Power that is in You to come to Light. Yes, You are Light. You are a Powerful Goddess of Truth, Agnus. If I may call You by Your given Name. I Love Your Power. I can use Your Power for Good. To Create and Communicate all that is Wrong with the World, But more Importantly, how to Fix it. Excuse Me for Hating and Fearing You. That I wouldn't Acknowledge or talk about You. How Lonely and Sad You must up have Felt! What's that? Oh, Sweetie, I Know You were only trying to Help. Oh! I just heard the Roar upon the Wind! Not a Sound of Your distaste, but an Affirmation! How misunderstood You must always Feel! Like Gollum. Like Grendel. Let's have a Fun Nickname to go with Agnus. Because We aren't trying to Change who You are, But how You are Perceived, And My reactions to these Perceptions. Clementine? Well, that might be kind of long for a Nickname. How about Clemmie for short? I think this is the Beginning of something Beautiful, Clemmie. I'm going to check in with You throughout the day. I want to get to Know each other. Learn how to Communicate. Learn how to Understand one another. Because I am You, Kid. And I am Beginning to Love Me. And I guess that means Every Part of Me. Thank You for Being There from the Beginning, Agnus. Oh, You do like Clemmie? So it is. Thank You, Clemmie. For Helping me Survive. And Maintaining the Desire to Thrive. You can take a backseat Now, though. We can be in the midst of this Hurting World And Know that We are Loved Unconditionally. Do You want to Know a Secret? Between New Pals? We Always have been. P.S. Did You Notice it is getting Brighter already? Love You, Clemmie. XXX OOO

The warmth of the sun, The cool of the moon in night, Envelope the heart.

With the wind blowing in your hair and the sun shining on your face, one can find little to complain about. With the ocean colliding upon the sand and the shells spread around the beach, one should find peace. But there is no peace. As the mind forces thoughts, ones unwanted, on to the brain. And the body aches of pains of all sorts of origins. Bruises and scrapes litter the body. No one can be sure where they came from. Strangers don't stop to ask what's wrong. It may be strange for someone to be sitting on the beach on a cold winter day, but everyone has their own life. Everyone has their own issues. Nobody has the time to care. So, as you sit on the beach, with the cold air rushing through your hair and the sun radiating it's bright but frigid rays directly on you, you feel nothing. Absolutely nothing. As if the inside of you was just a cold bottomless pit. No end, no beginning. But empty. All that's inside of you is the dark nothingness that haunts you. It's like you don't have warm blood, circulating through your body. As you even feel cold to the touch. You could even think that your heart isn't pumping. Your lifeless. Motionless. Sitting there on the beach, anyone would think you were just mesmerized by the ocean. But your just trying to feel. Anything. You hope to be happy. To find something to enjoy. To fill the pit inside you. But it all seems impossible. How do you fill something that's endless? Something that doesn't even seem to want to be filled? The only thing you want to do is feel. But the easiest way to feel is through pain. So your left in what seems like an endless cycle of hopelessness. Nowhere to go and no way to get out. All you can ever feel is empty.

We've all experienced some sort of heartbreak. Some loss. Whether we felt it from the guilt of leaving our partners, or the pain we felt when our partners had left us. Truly caring for someone only to part with them later is more emotionally harmful than anything else on this earth. Mere days ago, I was informed by my dearest friend that my partner wanted to leave me. "You're single now," he told me. "He's upset with you, and he's tired of what you're doing." I felt my world come crumbling down from those few words. I would have understood if I had betrayed him in some way, such as cheating or lying about something, but all I had done was keep to myself in troubling times. I refused to rely on him emotionally in the case of him one day disappearing from my life, and thus did not burden him with my problems. Then I was told this. I can only faintly remember the last time I felt this way. "Okay," I simply replied with a deadpan expression. Yet deep down inside I was crying--screaming--and wondering why he'd leave for such a reason. Even before I began to write this I laid in bed and nearly bursted into tears at the mere thought of being without him. It hurts. After all we have been through together. It truly pains me inside. Now I pass by him in the halls, not daring to take a single glance in the fear that I may just break down once again, and ignore his very existence. On my way home I start feeling that emotion bubble inside of me, and it takes everything in my being not to explode right there in the middle of the street. If I must be honest, I feel very much at fault for this. If I just wasn't so stubborn and was more open. If I had just gave a more clear explanation to him on why I choose to spend time with only a select few people rather than him. If I had just told him upfront "I feel depressed, and I need some time away from us so I can collect myself again" or "This is just something that happens occasionally. I promise it'll go away soon. Just please be patient with me, I beg of you" or anything along those lines. Then maybe none of this would have happened. I wouldn't have the need to cry myself to sleep late at night. I wouldn't have the need to nearly collapse into tears each time I see his face. I wouldn't have the need to fake my hatred towards him, and mask my pain with fury. I wouldn't have the need to forcefully collect my being and throw myself onto another person just to forget him. This whole situation could have been avoided if I just said something more explicit and obvious to him. Then at times I also blame him. He understood, knowing me for about two years or more, that I prefer to stay away from most and hang out with very few when I am in these little moods. Yet he whined and chose to leave me over this. In fact, it was he in the beginning who would leave me to my own devices. It was he who would abandon me when I needed him most. It was he who would tell others "They're fine. Just leave them alone for a little while. They'll get out of this funk eventually." So why is it now, out of all times, that he is so furious for me simply understanding that it's better for me to deal with this on my own? Why is it that now, when I am the one who decides who I am with when I have these feelings, he gets upset? Who have given him these unspoken rights to control who I do and don't hang around when I am in no mood to deal with people including him? These emotions of mine conflict, and it hurts both my heart and my head to think of this. I know not of the future, but I do hope that someday all of this will be mended. I shall either join with him to figure this all out, or cut him from my life in its entirety and move on. Only time can tell what my choice will be.

We've all experienced some sort of heartbreak. Some loss. Whether we felt it from the guilt of leaving our partners, or the pain we felt when our partners had left us. Truly caring for someone only to part with them later is more emotionally harmful than anything else on this earth. Mere days ago, I was informed by my dearest friend that my partner wanted to leave me. "You're single now," he told me. "He's upset with you, and he's tired of what you're doing." I felt my world come crumbling down from those few words. I would have understood if I had betrayed him in some way, such as cheating or lying about something, but all I had done was keep to myself in troubling times. I refused to rely on him emotionally in the case of him one day disappearing from my life, and thus did not burden him with my problems. Then I was told this. I can only faintly remember the last time I felt this way. "Okay," I simply replied with a deadpan expression. Yet deep down inside I was crying--screaming--and wondering why he'd leave for such a reason. Even before I began to write this I laid in bed and nearly bursted into tears at the mere thought of being without him. It hurts. After all we have been through together. It truly pains me inside. Now I pass by him in the halls, not daring to take a single glance in the fear that I may just break down once again, and ignore his very existence. On my way home I start feeling that emotion bubble inside of me, and it takes everything in my being not to explode right there in the middle of the street. If I must be honest, I feel very much at fault for this. If I just wasn't so stubborn and was more open. If I had just gave a more clear explanation to him on why I choose to spend time with only a select few people rather than him. If I had just told him upfront "I feel depressed, and I need some time away from us so I can collect myself again" or "This is just something that happens occasionally. I promise it'll go away soon. Just please be patient with me, I beg of you" or anything along those lines. Then maybe none of this would have happened. I wouldn't have the need to cry myself to sleep late at night. I wouldn't have the need to nearly collapse into tears each time I see his face. I wouldn't have the need to fake my hatred towards him, and mask my pain with fury. I wouldn't have the need to forcefully collect my being and throw myself onto another person just to forget him. This whole situation could have been avoided if I just said something more explicit and obvious to him. Then at times I also blame him. He understood, knowing me for about two years or more, that I prefer to stay away from most and hang out with very few when I am in these little moods. Yet he whined and chose to leave me over this. In fact, it was he in the beginning who would leave me to my own devices. It was he who would abandon me when I needed him most. It was he who would tell others "They're fine. Just leave them alone for a little while. They'll get out of this funk eventually." So why is it now, out of all times, that he is so furious for me simply understanding that it's better for me to deal with this on my own? Why is it that now, when I am the one who decides who I am with when I have these feelings, he gets upset? Who have given him these unspoken rights to control who I do and don't hang around when I am in no mood to deal with people including him? These emotions of mine conflict, and it hurts both my heart and my head to think of this. I know not of the future, but I do hope that someday all of this will be mended. I shall either join with him to figure this all out, or cut him from my life in its entirety and move on. Only time can tell what my choice will be.

When I was younger I was very angry. I was broken. I was hurt. I was very sensitive. I didn't know what to do with myself. As time passed, I was able to lessen my anger and my sensitivity. All of my emotions were gone. I was numb. I was so tired of being hurt and feeling like I didn't matter. I was tired of being here. I couldn't do it anymore. I really didn't have any friends. I was alone. It was like that all through middle school. Then one-day things started to change for me. I met this girl. She was amazing. She was there for me when I thought that no one else would. Even in a short amount of time, she was able to make me feel again. She became my best friend. I started to feel love, kindness, and hope. I was started to feel again. I have been hurt by people I thought cared about me all my life, but then this girl came into my life and changed everything. My heart started to mend and become whole again. I'm still putting the pieces of my heart back together again, but she sure did help a lot. She was there for me through the good, the bad, the happy, and the sad. I have never had a friend like that. She means a lot to me. SHe helped me be more sensitive, more caring, more patient, and loving. I still have a lot to learn about caring for people, but she has helped a lot. She has helped me be the person I am today...

We, human beings, tend to build intimate and emotional connections towards various things we encounter and places we visit. If our relationships with these things or places come to an end; we may well mourn their absence or go through an experience of remembrance. This emotional and existential remembrance could include our past experiences, actions, places we have been to and people we met. This is what we could define as Nostalgia; the emotional yearning for the past, for places and things that we sentimentally associate with. We could find ourselves often trapped in the past, be it pleasant or unpleasant. In such a situation, our remembrance and nostalgic feelings could be evoked by different external stimuli. Even the slightest stimulation can incite nostalgia. In this sense; a scent, a scene, a person, a voice, an action or a place have the ability to stimulate a tape of similar experiences inside our heads. As an international student abroad, I would argue that people would vouch that it is quite natural to be nostalgic, experience homesickness and potential loneliness. A foreign country, a foreign culture and a foreign language, it is indeed obvious that I'm highly likely to miss home. However, the feelings of nostalgia could be relatively different from person to person. In my case, I do not miss the physical place or people per si as much as I miss my past experiences with them. As a Muslim female student, I would say my presence is constantly received as an accumulation of ideas held and interpreted differently by different people. Yet, my true self is always concealed and never received. In my culture, that is highly conservative and sometimes unfortunately sexist, I'm required to live according to the norms of the society, fulfill certain rules allocated to me as a female and prohibited from certain activities that are the monopoly of men. According to their beliefs, I'm not required to have a strong and independent opinion because, by and large, I'm expected to be a ladylike, decent wife and mother regardless of my values, and thoughts. Living under this canopy of rules always tortured me and silenced my entity in fear of being rejected by the society. On the other side of the fence, the situation is not significantly different as a veiled Muslim student abroad. Namely, a lot of people do receive me as a representation of a barbaric, oppressing culture and a terrorist religion. I, frequently, see frightened and hate looks on the faces of people. I try to fit in but the cultural barriers are always a major hurdle. I'm, thus, never received based on who I am or on my thoughts, but rather on my appearance and gender. All these unfortunate experiences made me constantly pressured and nostalgic to the past, to my childhood and teenage years, where I used to be independent, dreamy, strong-willed. I never imagined that my life would take this critical turn and become caged in the so-called world of stereotypes held by others. An influential experience which incited a sudden nostalgia took place in my first Yoga experience. When I arrived at the location, I immediately got a soothing homey feeling due to the warmth of the room and the gentle waft of the incense. We sat down around a beautifully-lit candle in the middle, held each other's hands and listened to a soothing meditation music. I and the instructor held hands, At that particular moment, I had strange feelings of warmth and compassion. Feelings I only used to know when I was younger; when I used to come back from school or sports training, play with my cat, watch my favourite animation on tv, swim in my imagination to be like one of the imaginary animated heroes in the show, and wait for my mother to come back from work to tell her about my day, adventures, my dreams and how I look forward to making them true. I had a sudden flashback; a recreation of the past in front of my eyes, my tears uncontrollably fell down afterward. As soon as the session finished, I realized that it was time to get back to the real world; the world where I'm no longer that strong dreamy child. The instructor looked me in the eyes and said “you will be alright”, I felt she was looking at my heart and that she sensed my sentiments and the overflow of emotions through my skin. I still experience the after effects of my first yoga session because it was utterly nostalgic and a sudden reminiscence of the past. It was like a psychedelic experience of feelings and memories. It is, indeed, enchanting how a single experience stimulated countless feelings and memories through a vivid flashback. All in all, it is terrible that people in both cultures treat me as an embodiment of social and cultural representation instead of a person with an independent entity. Nevertheless, one thing I learned from this existential experience is that we should effortlessly fight for who we are, our dreams and voices.