I’m tired of attempting to analyze people. It is as though I have this inherent disease where I subconsciously analyze people trying to decipher the significance behind their actions and words. In reality, I may be totally off in my analyses, yet I am sometimes affected by my perceptions of people. The astonishing thing, however, is that I am rarely incorrect with my perceptions. The vibes, demeanor, body language, and word usage of an individual serve as a window to that person’s mind. I don’t want this unlucky trait anymore though. I’m absolutely sick and tired of knowing more than I need to know. I wish there was an “off” button for this unwanted knowledge that keeps pouring into my head every time I converse with a person.

Over the years, I have, like many other people, come to the painful conclusion that this world is full of phonies. Most people are only looking to fend for themselves and their intentions are more often ingenuine than genuine. I guess this is my deeply ingrained cynicism speaking, but I cannot blame myself for this belief that I hold. I have had bad experiences during my life, which is the reason why I feel this way towards people and analyze them in the matter that I do. Perhaps one day I’ll have an epiphany and lose any and all perceptive abilities, but for now it is a habit of mine to recognize and dissect certain elements in a person’s speech and conduct that allude to his or her inner thoughts and character. I may seem judgmental, however, this is not the case. It is only after repeated encounters with a person that these perceptions begin to accumulate and point to certain factors. It is after my experiences with a person that I begin to determine how close or not close I should be to them.

These are the reasons why my circle of friends has diminished considerably over the years. I used to have people swarming around me, making plans and exchanging heart-to-heart conversations, literally around the clock. However, after I gained some clarity and sense of environment, I distanced myself from the people that cunningly utilized the disguise of friendship to harbor a harmfully malicious interior.

Today, I can count the number of people that I trust on one hand and one hand alone. I don’t feel sorry for this, nor do I regret it. The truth of the matter is that this is life, and life calls for such measures sometimes especially after it is unfairly abused.

So lately, I’ve been browsing blogs and obviously I come across a myriad of types, considering everyone is unique and instilled in each one of us are distinct characteristics and tendencies. What does not cease to surprise me is that it seems as though the bloggers who I truly feel are actually discussing substantial things, rather than the typical, “oh, I woke up this morning and I had this and that for breakfast and then I trudged to work and talked to my co-worker about this and that,” receive very little if any deserving feedback on their entries. I felt sorry for some of them although I shouldn’t, because feedback is not something that validates a blog in any way, shape, or form. I think what truly validates a blog is the blogger’s willingness to keep going back to it and updating it on whim because they truly enjoy it and gain something from it.

It saddens me, however, that I read some blogs that held no appeal whatsoever, yet they were swarming with comments and whatnot. I mean, the grammar and readability of the blog entries may be horrible and disgusting, yet the blog is shining with fame due to readers’ approval of the content. And then the blogger constantly (and when I say constantly, I mean it) gloats about this in his or her entries, as though it is some kind of lifetime accomplishment. I mean, it is their blog and they have a right to say whatever they desire, but I too am entitled to stating my own opinions and reactions in regard to these things.

This all simply says something about blogging these days. No matter how beautiful and meaningful I may find a certain blog, the public may not deem it so. I find it odd albeit the fact that this holds true for many elements of life besides blogging - whether it be a particular movie, book, or whatever else, this happens. Although I deem some blogs as more worthy of attention, the bloggers themselves may not care, but I personally wish that more people would resort to reading these deserving blogs because I believe they can reap much benefit from them despite some of the popular (and in my opinion, trashy) blogs being first on their reading lists.

Maybe I look too deep into things, but I’m glad that I’ve found the handful of blogs that I find amazing and read on a regular basis. If people appreciates these blogs, I am most certainly one of them.

I could have been dead in my grave right now. No, this is not a sick joke. I’m serious. The other day as I was taking my first step down the basement stairs, my socks somehow slipped on the step (I’m still confuddled as to how this happened, but I’m not going to dig into this too deeply or else I’ll lose the few elements of calm normality that I do possess) and I went crashing down the stairs haphazardly. The thing that sticks about this incident is that my head hit each and every step on the way down because I fell in a sideways position. I don’t know if that makes any sense to you, but try to imagine it in your head. Luckily, the stairs are carpeted and are not too lengthy. As I fell, naturally for me I screamed in shock and pain. The whole right side of my body was aching - my head, some of my back, shoulders, arms, ribs, hip, knees, and the rest. My parents and younger brother who heard my bloodcurling scream came down immediately. They were in a frantic state trying to comprehend what happened to me and how (although the “how” wasn’t their primary concern and it shouldn’t have been).

Since then, my body has ached in ways that I cannot describe. Two days have passed and luckily, the pain is just now beginning to subside. I seriously thought I was going to die as I slid down those goddamn steps. I feel as though God decided to grant me some extra time. A part of me finds it difficult to believe that I deserve this. In the beginning especially, my mind would keep saying to me, “you shouldn’t be ALIVE right now!” It was simply something that made me gape in awe whenever I thought about it. I’m surprised that this fall didn’t cause me any permanent or long-term brain damage or a disk in my back going out of place.

My lesson of the day is to be careful while walking down the damn steps with socks on, especially if the stairs are carpeted. It can prove to be quite a fatal journey down those steps if you are not in the least bit careful! I have a bad feeling that I was perhaps doing one of those idiotic hop-down-the-steps thing that I do sometimes. I cannot remember though, because the of events leading to my fall are an absolute blur to me.

Opportunities present themselves all the time, but I rarely if ever seize them for my own benefit. I am not sure why I have this unexplainable attitude toward anything even seemingly good. Agh, I wish I could go into more detail but I cannot. Sometimes I contemplate starting a new blog that is completely anonymous and does not give even the slightest hint about my identity. This restraint I must practice is quite hard for me at times.

Well, I don’t know why it is that I don’t seize these opportunities that I speak of. I mean, I can possibly narrow down potential possibilities. For example, I think my lazy lethargicness is to blame. Also, I am scared to try new things that come with risks. This isn’t the way that I desire to live - in doubt and isolation. I suppose the way I was raised is to blame for these tendencies I have, since I was raised in a semi-sheltered environment. My parents had always been wearisome of anything that I did, and this kind of overbearingly strict upbringing had a tremendous impact on my personality and character.

I don’t blame them for absolutely everything, because in many ways they saved me from living exactly the kind of life that repulses me, a life laden with drugs, alcohol, promiscious sex, and more. I live this life devoid of these actions and even while my parents have not been standing over my shoulder and guarding my every action and move, I have opted to reject these things due to my own will. There have been times in my life when my spirituality has gone downhill, but I have continued to abstain from these things because they simply don’t interest me at all. It perplexes me sometimes when I attempt to understand why these things seem to be the very center of certain peoples’ lives. I am flabbergasted as to how these things seep into their lives, forever holding them in their poisonous grasp.

Okay, I think I went off on a tangent. I just cannot understand why I let go of amazing opportunties. In the process of trying to analyze my way of dealing with things, I went off on a tangent about my parents having a heavy influence on me throughout childhood and my teens and how it resulted in me being the person that I am. There can be a million other reasons for the absence of my willingness to seize opportunities, but I cannot decipher every one of them. I suppose there is no use in sighing over what has passed. The most that I can do now is to wait for the next chance that presents itself.

Like a compass needle that points north, a man’s accusing finger always finds a woman. Always. You remember that, Mariam.” -A Thousand Splendid Suns

I just finished reading A Thousand Splendid Suns by Khaled Hosseini. I attained a copy of it yesterday and devoured it since. Amidst finals and writing papers, this book found its way into the cracks between different obligations and commitments I strive to uphold and fulfill during the hours of my days. Not neglecting my list of things that must be accomplished, I found time to read this book. I have to say that periodically while I read, I would feel overwhelmed with grief inside as the book delved into the lives of the women in war-torn Afghanistan. The various social and political issues were addressed in pages of beautiful prose that lingered on my mind even when I wasn’t reading the book. Not only that, but the romantic and intricately personal elements in this book touched my heart in ways that I cannot describe - it is rather interesting how a book has the ability to string my inner cords in ways that a movie or a play can never do. I was captivated from the first page to the last, and now that I am done, I don’t know what I can replace this book with.

After I take my two remaining finals on Tuesday, this semester will be officially over, much to my dismay. I find myself wanting to cling to a schedule and a way of living that is fleeting me - rather, it has fled already and now I must grow used to the idea of the approaching summer that will hijack my days. I will miss my classes beyond belief, and the nuances of my days that I had become hopelessly accustomed to. I’ll miss this so much.

I don’t want to surrender and give in to time. I don’t want to, but I have no other choice than to embrace the upcoming days that hold within them limitless uncertainty and mystery.