there are secrets that we still have left to find.

[✄ – – – VANYA!]

I have to rant.

My friends consider me the psychologist. When people have problems, they come to me. I try to assess their situation from an emotional and psychological level, and give them suggestions based on what would help them the most. It's who I am. Sometimes it's as though I was born to help other people, and nothing more.

I spend all my minutes, hours, days, months and years trying to figure out the logic behind an illogical world. Though I help others and am proud to do so, sometimes...it just gets to be too much. I lose my faith in the things around me, because I can't make sense of them.

A situation I deal with a lot lately is as follows.

My grandmother is a woman who is not the best at expressing kind emotions. I understand that logically, she did not learn how to categorize, tag, and express her emotions as a youth, and that has followed her into adulthood. My mother is not so understanding.

To my mother, my grandmother never says "I love you." If my mom says it, my grandmother merely responds with "okay," or "bye." I've seen her cry about it. I understand that too. My mother is an emotional person, and she doesn't understand when her feelings aren't openly reciprocated.

I try to explain to her that even though my grandmother doesn't say it, it doesn't mean it isn't true. But I can't be so sure...because whenever I say "I love you" to her, she says it back.

I can't understand what that means. It's illogical, confusing, bewildering...and I'm faced with this emotional conundrum every day. I find it hard to cope because I don't understand what's going on. I have to understand, or I can't handle it.

Sometimes, I just want to stamp my foot and say, "I don't want to be the psychologist anymore." I need time to assess my own life, solve my own problems, without enduring the troubles of someone else. But how can one say no to someone in need, someone searching for answers? How can I refuse to help someone that needs it?

I don't know anymore.

[...Pyre]

I don't know if saying I understand what you feel is correct because I probably don't and saying it won't make you feel better.
Also, saying I'm sorry doesn't make sense because it wasn't my fault and again it won't help.







if i could i'd be giving you a big hug right about now and then we'd go and get ice cream and cry about nothing and watch television under a blanket while it rains outside.


/hug

[✄ – – – VANYA!]

I still hate people.

The paternal side of my family is Palestinian. Unsurprisingly from heartless US of fucking A, they're all grouped into the same group. Iraqis, Iranians, Palestinians, Jordanians...it's like grouping Mexico, Canada, and the US into one massive country. Just stupid. But that's not what this rant is about.

After the death of bin Laden, my mother said words that tore me apart.

"I'll bet your brothers aren't happy about this..."

My half-brothers, raised in Jordan...good, kind men who work their hardest to benefit a country that hates them by default...

Can you see why this subject is so heartwrenching?

My brothers are not terrorists. My brothers are not members of Al-Qaeda. My brothers are loving, respectful American citizens. They work hard and stay within the law. They're more law-abiding than most born Americans. Is it fair that because of their country of origin, they're stereotyped as terrorists bent on destroying good ol' USA?

Fuck you people who think that. You make me sick. You're nothing but monsters, and you deserve your life about as much as bin Laden deserved his.