Turning Point. Part (1/2)

Readers. 2011 is where i have experienced a new beginning. I'm 20, yet somehow i feel born again.

Hearts of steel
Art
Character Building
Resistance

Words that will always remind me of this turning point.

A conclusion resulting from endless conclusions.


In 7 days, i will be leaving to Portugal for two months. Alone.

After about 4 months of endless work, noises...experiences, im sitting here at a coffee shop. Alone.
This leaves me wondering about the choices i want to make. Do i want those endless noises? do i want all of those people around me? or do i want that that peaceful lifestyle, noise free, experience free.

This is what my turning point was all about.

I started my last junior semester at university with a job at the radio, a job at university and hard courses to look forward to....now, the semester has ended, and somehow, people are calling me an 'artist'. Next year i am a senior, an artist, a woman, and a complete human.

How i got to these conclusions, one would think, are all a blur. But no. I remember each and every moment.

Being the lazy bastard i am, i'm surprised at what i've done --not accomplished, but done.

in the beginning, I trained in the Arab Media world to become a radio presenter. It was all a lie, i knew that the moment i started. They needed me to lie...and all i did was 'train'. It is amazing what these people do to further inflate the bubble we already live in. I hate that bubble. It makes me lazier. Yet, i cannot pop it, for i have no idea what to do after it has been popped...yet. Unfortunately, that's what most of the people here strive to do. Instead of trying to live in the real world, we water our materialism until we become monsters. It is only in a very small community, where the real world is addressed.

this is one post i am finding so hard to write because i literally feel nothing. I usually write when i am feeling something. Whether anger, happiness, disgust, or shame. At some point during my training in the media world, i knew i wanted to be a part of that community,,,the community outside the media. Fuckers. Yet, one thing i was afraid of is if i left them, i would be called a quitter. Further in time...when two months passed, I quit. I understood that these are not people i work with. They are animals. Animals of the media world, wanting to turn us 'commoners' into animals just like them. So, i left to pursue something else.

Throughout my training in the media, i was also really busy working to get an internship somewhere far away. That's how Portugal stepped into my life. Since the semester started, I've been writing, sending and receiving letters back and forth to get an internship --- which was one thing that surprises me... i actually filled out application forms, ew; and worked with lazy, disorganized and not punctual people, double ew, to get something I WANTED done --- alone. Away, alone, no one...just me.

Being the youngest in my family, im relatively spoilt. This is why 2011 was a test i bestowed upon myself to see how far i can go.

Go to my next post if u wanna complete reading this crappy, very narcissistic, very egotistical, disorganized post of mine.