I started bullet journaling over winter break. It has been one of the better decisions I have made in the past few years, and I've seen the direct results of embarking on this organizational journey in my day-to-day life. I'm less anxious, more organized, I remember both short-term and long-term goals; the act of putting … Continue reading On discipline, or how I’m learning to stop self-flagellating
There are days - more realistically, nights - where I'm so overcome by my own sudden, built-up anger that I don't know what to do with myself. It'll come entirely out of left-field, usually while I'm working, maybe triggered by a lyric in a song or something I read. Right now I'm reading about the … Continue reading Dormant anger in the postmodern era and a music review
There is a man who stands outside the Park Street T entrance right on the Boston Common. He is always shaven, dressed in a black windbreaker, carrying a backpack which always has a water bottle tucked into it. He carries a cardboard sign that says "My son and I are homeless" and that's when I … Continue reading The profound sadness of living in a city
When fending off darkness and jadedness is resistance, you walk as if your joints are sandpaper. There's a constant ache in a part of your body you can't quite pinpoint. Every time you smile, you throw the bags under your eyes into relief. You still smile with your eyes, though. There's tension in the tangling vines that grow … Continue reading Resisting
Stuck inside on this snowy, snowy day, I find myself mulling over my future and accepting, unwillingly, what I have been denying for quite a few years: Knowing what field I want to be in does not, in fact, amount to knowing what I want to do with my life; moreover, knowing I have plenty of … Continue reading Short note: fraud
But sometimes your tongue is so laden with all the ways you can phrase a sentence that you end up swollen and heavy-jowled, and all that comes from your lips are disjointed words interjected with hesitation and insecurity. You sit down, red, and pretend you aren't being stared at by people who're wondering what the hell you're doing there; you pretend you aren't pretending those people are staring at you because it's much easier to displace the responsibility of criticism than admit you hate some aspect of your identity.
They say you carry your home with you wherever you go. If that's truly the case, then it should come as no surprise to the world that I hold within me a tempest: fire engulfing water trying to drench the flames fanned by winds trying to pull the elements every which way, and how beautiful … Continue reading Another essay on home
Sometimes I read through my own blog. I read through it with the same compulsiveness with which I attend to my linkedin profile, as if I have something to prove to myself by reacquainting my eyes over and over with my own work, with my accomplishments (or lack thereof, depending on the day), and most importantly, with my … Continue reading 1:55am, saturday
If you follow me on any kind of social media, chances are you'll see some variation of the following, "I like politics and make up." Granted, sometimes the variations are very varied, but the point remains the same: I have two great loves in the world and those are politics and make up, or international relations … Continue reading Short note: Musings on make up
I'm usually an exceptionally happy individual - bouncy, optimistic, loud, and glad to share affection with the world. When I do get in one of my "funks" it's very short-lived: a quick session of crying and then I'm back to functioning at my usual, extroverted level. I also have a love for slow, sad music. … Continue reading Thinking aloud
Neiha Lasharie 