Exhale
I breathe oxygen to live and adventure to stay alive.
You still make me nervous, and I don’t quite trust you.
But you do.
I’m immediately skeptical of white people who go to Africa and all of a sudden can’t fuck with America. Do you know where you’re from?
Maybe it’s not always fetishization and exoticism run rampant, but it sure smells like it. If you’re a white person who feels like they can shed some light on this issue, feel free.
I want to learn how to stop worrying so much and not be so uptight.
Can someone show me?
Sometimes I wake up around 4:45 or so, which is an awkward time for me. It’s not usually easy for me to fall back asleep if I wake up this close to 7 or 8, my usual time, so I’m often just prematurely awake. I usually read or write and try to let my mind float back to the land of Nod.
This is a good time for me to write; I’m clearheaded and contemplative and usually patient enough to let the thoughts come as they will.
I’m back from Africa, from Ghana specifically. The past four or five months have thrown me into all kinds of introspection, contemplation, and general lost-in-thought-ness. People always talk about how study abroad is a life changing experience and whatnot; I’d say that you need it or something else that can totally take you out of your comfort zone and range of familiarity.
Obviously enough, being in Ghana made me realize that I’m an American. As a comparative women’s studies major and international studies minor I’ve spent the past three years extensively critiquing and denouncing the many ways that America and its imperial society has fucked over various (all) of its people groups.
That being said, I’m still from here. I’m a biological and ideological product of this society, for better or for worse. I realized this as I moved throughout the communal and collectivistic societies of Ghana.
I feel like I’ve matured so much since the last time I was home.
Tumblr isn’t a good vehicle for me to write for. It feels like it’s being written for other people more so than myself, and then I hyperfocus on structure and making it sound good. It might be journal time.
That moment when you’re a little high and write something too pretentious even for tumblr. Lol.
What is everyone thinking about tonight?
And when was the last time you thought about your closest friend?
It’s hard for me to take the time and write. I think a lot, I read a lot of things, and I feel like I’m always being inspired by something. With most things it’s much easier to take in things that other people have created than to create myself. Not because I don’t like to create, but it can seem more interesting to see something that comes from outside yourself.
That’s something I want to work on changing; my ideas need to get out there too!
