I haven't posted here in a while. That is because my energies have been directed elsewhere. But the time has come to write in here once more.

I was reminded recently that any kind of passion carries responsibility along with it. If you fuel a passion, you are instantly responsible to yourself for any emotion that it brings along with it. And that the key to controlling your emotions is to pinpoint the passion that directs it.

Lately, i have been getting passionate over things for all the wrong reasons. I spent *way* too much time drumming today. I've been reading The Amber Spyglass when i was meant to be reading Pride and Prejudice. I've been opening up parts to myself that clearly shouldnt be shown in the first place.

And underneath all this, i feel a strange inversion. Suddenly, work duties feel like that they're getting in the way of my "passions" when in reality, i am letting my passions have free reign, and then i turn around and wonder why i feel so unfulfilled.

I trashed that short story i was writing. I was sick of it. It was just an experiment in writing romance from a more realistic, detached perspective, but the truth is i am not realistic and detached when it comes to romance itself. So how can i write something outside of myself in such a way? I read it back, and it just sounded like convoluted bullshit. I was actually sick to my stomach by reading what i had wrote. Ashamed almost.
And thats where it hit me, i dont control my passions. I just let them run wild. And then when the night darkens, or when things grow unquiet, i can feel the unrest inside myself. I complain, and i complain, and i wish for it to go away. But if only i had the sense to look at myself and see that i am the one who is fueling these disturbances. I am the one responsible.

So this is my target : Make this week a lot better than last week. Step things up a gear and "ban" my time-wasting passions.

I got an A in my recent history essay again. Thats my 5th A in a row, and i was proud of myself once more. That particular essay had me really struggling, really grasping at straws to try and make a coherent arguement from the limited sources i had, but somehow i made it work and i got a good result in the end.

The girl next to me, Rebecca, always asks to see my essays. She never seems to be able to reach a B. "You got an A again?! You always get A's ...."

I could feel a slight impulse of anger shoot through my veins, and i snapped rather impatiently "Don't be deceived by the grade, its always a struggle to get that A"

I got looks from all the other students today. Hostile looks, curious looks, all kinds of faces. One thing for sure is that they all think i'm working some kind of magic, that i make all of this happen very easily, because i'm "talented".

I hate that word. Its such a bullshit concept. I dont believe in talent at all. There is only ever hard work. And there's no way you can measure, or compare human experiences to see if someone has it easier than someone else - each experience is intangible. Your spirit, your soul, your mind is locked from everyone else. But what we end up doing is theorizing. Guessing. We want to believe that person has it easier than we do, because its an excuse for us not to try harder - but now that i am in a position where i am trying hard i know now that it is only ever hard work that makes the world go round and not talent.

I made a lot of stupid mistakes today. I made stupid mistakes yesterday. I want to set it right from this point onwards, but i still feel disjointed.

I was reading The Amber Spyglass today, and i got to a point where Will and Lyra decided on heading towards a particular land in order to meet someone. They had both found each other after a long point in the story where they had been previously split, and fought tooth-and-nail in order to find each other, but they did in the end, and they managed to escape Mrs Coulter and Lord Roke's forces.

And all of a sudden, the subtle knife was repaired and Lyra got her athlieometer back. They were reunited and then set off towards that land.

I closed the book at that point. Something stopped me from reading it. I was jealous of Will and Lyra. I was jealous because of the fact that they both shared a white-hot vision of what they were to do next, and they shared it together. I looked at the empty bus seat next to me - there was no Lyra, no Will to be seen. I looked outside the bus window and it was sunset, and for some odd reason today, it looked absolutely beautiful. The redness of the sun just bleeded over into the sky horizontally, the clouds becoming a fluffy dark blue and the sky still struggling to keep its calm, blue tone as the sun went down.

I felt terribly alone.

And my mind went back to the idea of the struggle. Every day for me is a struggle. There's no magic method to any of this. Sure, i'm motivated now, but that doesn't actually mean anything. You've got to actually move on in the day to day struggle to make your dreams a reality. And sometimes, i stumble, and i fall. Sometimes my loneliness gets the best of me, makes me unfocused in class; makes me forget important work. I curse myself because i should know better, but sometimes i cant help it.

I want to set it right. I want to wake up the next morning and try it all over again and try to make it work. I know that in the back of my head, i'm alone in all of this, but i try to hide it behind revision notes, A-graded essay papers, dreams of university, and above all ...a deep boundless sleep.

I have a practice mock exam tommorow. I'm really stressed about it for some odd reason. Just generally, the stress has been steadily building up in a volcanic way. I know my studies are going really well, but every other aspect of my life has died. This is, i think, what happens when you are dedicated. But the problem is that i need release.

I know that i'm going to go in tommorow and try really hard, and then i'll go back to fixing up my notes for other lessons. It's just i feel my insides turning all cold and silent. My artistic side has totally withered away, i just dont understand where it has gone. My graphic design died, my photography cant be done anymore, my writing is on hold - my life has become what i was afraid of it coming a few years ago.

To some extent, thats fine. Sometimes you have to just make sacrifices in order to survive. However just because i'm making these sacrifices in order to focus on my student life, doesnt make it any less painful. Infact, it really, really hurts.

There's other things that bothers me too. I just dont feel that mum is going anywhere. I just really fucking hate the way things have turned out. I hate what dad has done to her, forcing her to work for so long. She doesnt deserve it. All along she just wanted to be a mother to her kids, to tend to the house and to her health, but dad chained her with the financial burden and now instead we get everything in half. And me and lubna have been a burden on her too, and i wish so badly to just fix things up.

And all the while, i can feel this burden pushing me to the edge of my existence. I have to outlive dad, i have to replace him, to be a better version and to set things right. I can feel my studies and my dreams pushing me away from my friends, from those i love. I'm just so distant with everyone, because i actually dont have the time or the focus or the energy to become involved with my friends and family anymore. And i'm sure that they feel that their own dilemmas are making them reflect inwards.....but i want to take the time to say that i fucking hate it. I hate all of it.

I want to go back to talking to shabazz everyday with ease. To talk to tehreem everyday and late into the nights. I want to go back to being kids with ismael, and i want to talk about anime, japan, and idealism with osman, tarik and carina once more. I missed it when this house was a family. I miss it when everyone got along. I once had a soulful, dreamy life, but it is no more.

Because when i wake up, the only thing i see and feel is the gritty London landscape. That is the only reality to me - to work and to get somewhere. Everything else has disappeared, lost its meaning. It feels as if someone drained all the soul, the art, out of my life.

Maybe it will change when i reach university InshAllah, but what will i do until then? What type of life will i live? One of love, charm, and warmth? Or one of obligations, responsibilities and burden?

I just dont know anymore.

...

I need a hug :(

...

Back to history work i guess *sigh*

The last, and final reason why i loved the Joker.

His past experience, his inner conflicts and madness are so impossible for everyone else to understand. The Joker is beyond understanding. And yet somehow, he makes it all work.

My obsession with the Joker has subsided into my subconscious and as a result its become a really essential inspiration for me. The first time it awakened in me was when i watched The Dark Knight and i saw Heath Ledger's portrayal of the Joker.

Nothing, absolutely nothing could have prepared me for what i saw. I've always believed that there was not a single human alive that could top Anthony Hopkins as Hannibal in Silence of the Lambs but i was proven horribly wrong.

Heath Ledger's Joker is psychotic, cunning, dangerous and even funny. His voice and makeup slips underneath your skin and makes you really feel like you are in the presence of a demon. But more strikingly, was the Joker's ability to see into the essence of things. To put people in morally ambigious situations, to see just how dedicated people are to their feelings of what is right and what is wrong. The Joker sets out to prove that right and wrong is merely context sensitive- we define what is right and what is wrong for us when it suits us the best. And that is the gigantic joke of it all, that is where it is hiliariously funny.

I started getting more interested in the character of the Joker. Because there have been different interpretations of his basic outline over the years. And there is something about his foundational characteristics that make any portrayal of him turn into magic. My feelings on it are this :

The Joker is amazing because he can laugh in the face of anything. Even when he is faced with death, he is still laughing. And his violent actions are there to prove a point. That we are all potentially open to chaos. We will all occasionally throw morals out of the window, just like he will. And the Joker doesnt understand why people keep lying to ourselves like that. He doesnt understand why the Batman dresses up in a silly costume, trying to capture bad guys when he is breaking the rules himself. His whole existance is to try and understand this. But because he never will, then he and Batman are destined to fight forever.

The Joker is such a big part of my character because he represents what you should do when you reach the bottom end : You should laugh hysterically. Because emotions are at the end of the day, a gigantic illusion. Its an illusion we choose to believe, and sometimes we need to believe in these illusions because it is what makes us human, yet these emotions come in the way of our everyday lives. They can destroy us.

The plans of the Joker are always masterfully planned, to the tiniest detail. Although he treats life like a joke, he takes his plans very seriously, and always has a backup plan. We often miss this part of his character because it is actually a very serious one. The Joker is above all, very practical.

I think there's something we've learnt from the Joker. That, even when things are at their most rotten, you must still have a sense of humour. You must be able to see the funny side. Because when we're being stupid, it's funny. And we should be able to laugh it off.