April, 15, 2021.
Thursday, 19:35.

.. I started writing this with the intention of making a journal and write about how has my day, even though that intention wasn't full.

The other part of me that wanted to rant and vent, to fet and moan, obviously got the upper hand, so I have to send my sincere apologies for whomever is the nosy, English speaking, reader.

Your actions has led you to such thing and it is not my fault you were curious about my notes app and what do I have in store.

Today has been quite eventful, or maybe lacking of events, the way you do perceive l is the way I shall give your imagination the key to its path.

I learned a lovely lesson about life today, even though it was a harsh firm one. Hence why it will be engraved in the mind of mine

I went the University to pick my aunt up, it was city like. Full of buildings and plants that i once thought were beautiful, the scenery baffled me since it was new to my eyes. But as we await longer for my aunt to come out, a realization falls.

It's not a city, rather a prison. Just a really fancy one.
The buildings were all in a way or form of rectangular shapes, the colour of the desert dirt lay on their brick walls, it was the plants that made it such a fancy disguise, plants and flowers of all colours to cover such a scary scenery, and when I went out. I was most glad. I have no memory or any recalls of the ride to the house but it was a long ride.

In the house , it was a new experience, emotionally new, spiritually new, and logically unbelievable, this is where I always felt home, in this ancient house. Where the lights are dim and the doors are cracked. I feel at home with my second cousins, who are my only friends, I am not sure that is mutual. I feel at home with my great aunts and uncles, whom I adore and look up to, when I learned that my lookings were wrong, my love didn't decrease, not an atom.
But here. This place even, though its home.. it exhuats me mentally, and that, I dreaded and will always dread.

This house is where I grew, and where my insecurities grew along.
This house is where I learned the art of conversing, and where I learn the art of being silent to avoid being cut off or hushed.
This house is where I learned to love, and where I learned to handle it even if it was unrequited.
This house is where I had fun, and this house is the place I now Lose interest in life.
And as much as I hate it, and hate to be called dramatic or exaggerating stuff, this might be unfortunate but it's no deceit

When ever someone laughs so confident, when ever someone talks so highly of themselves, when ever they talk about shared trips and memories I never had the chance to make, when ever someone acts not worried about a bigger figure like an adult telling them off, jealousy oozes out of my veins. Jealousy, envy, with a mixture of happiness and depression at the same time. Such a weird feeling to be an outcast, to be Frank. I know I am wanted here but I can't help to feel like I'm not, when they all lend a hand or have a laugh with me, I can't help feel that it's nothing but pity

And I wish that one day I find a group like them where I do fit in, yes, I want them, but I'll never have it unless I change my name from a thing  to another, unless the fact that my father is not one of them is changed, I have no way that I'll be one of them.

Notice how i have said wish instead of hope, you might be thinking, "as if she's not being 'deep and depressed' or 'philosophical' enough, she's being an English smart pants." ill say it either way. Wish is a word used for a thing that has a low chance/ is impossible to happen. However, hope is a word used for a thing more likely to happen

And sometimes I just Wish I wasn't who I am