| My love for San Jose... It is has been a long time since I have written in xanga. I remember when I used to have endless stories and moments to write about, but now for some reason moments pass without memory or connection, stories are just a part of life, which has become a dull daily routine. I guess then, it is a good thing that I am journaling again. I think my inspiration and realization of the daily stories of my life was sparked from spring break. I went home and spent time with friends and fam, got immersed in my passions once again and I was re-birthed. It is actually pretty funny, talking politics in Berkeley annoys me, I stray from it, I don’t want to hear of it - I just live in my little bubble, leaving my idealist views far away; this is what I feared. For all those reasons I can strongly and adamantly say, I hate Berkeley. Yes, it is true that it is my own fault for letting myself dwindle away, but why it is the second I step away I am jolted with electricity and I awake, there must be a definite reason for this. When I am home I am continuously empowered. My mother, my constant reminder that change is possible as far-fetched as it may seem and as hard as the journey may be – I know we will overcome. Her constant reminder to me keeps me hopeful; "Rabiah, hold on to your loved ones and everyone who loves you, as a single stick you will be easily broken, but standing as multiple sticks, no one will be able to break you." When I am home I need not to look any farther then the hands of my mother, the blooming eyes of my niece, the hysterical laughter of my teeny-bopper sister, the loving hugs of my brother, the random drives with the loved friends, the spontaneous "lets get together" - I am surrounded by the love and laughter of everyone that holds a special place in my heart and I could not be happier. San Jose, home sweet home; it is waking up to the plush trees lining my yard and sunlight glowing every morning through my window. The morning chaos, I miss it so much as we hustle about finding lost shoes and misplaced car keys. I am running around making sure homework assignments are complete and placed in backpacks as my mother rushes to finish lunches for the kids, while keeping an eye out for the quickly ticking seconds. Just driving, whether it is errands or aimless drives that have no destination, my affixation is to the action. My left hand on the wheel- 12 o'clock if i'm feeling good and powerful, right hand on the wheel - 6 o'clock if burdened by life's depressions and my head rest tilted on the window pane, merely held by my left hand. Coffee and friends, we are phone calls away and in seconds sip on lattes at Starbucks on the corner of blossom hill and Santa Theresa, discussing everything from boyfriend mishaps to 'oh my god' what was she thinking! Valley fair, where my credit card burns every time it zaps through the machine ringing up on items that will be part of my growing antique collection of untouched and unworn, but time spent chatting with the close friends as hours pass away in small talks and chaotic laughter and play, are always remembered when I lay at night reminiscing of the nostalgic memories of home sweet home. .... to be continued on a later date |
