I Just Wanna Be A Girl!

So... one question I've been thinking about is how my semester abroad changed me. Sure... I learned how to be independent. I learned how to clean things and cook pretty well. I learned how to be on my own. I learned how to sit in silence.  But... there was something else that happened. I didn't notice it when I was abroad, but I have been slowly picking up on it when I got back home. I realized that I was meaner. Now... by that... I don't mean cruel. I mean I refuse to let people walk all over me. I take what is rightfully mine and don't regret it. I put myself first, when surrounded by people who do the same. I used to do everything people wanted me to, believing that I would get recognition for it. Now, I wasn't timid, but I guess I might be called a pushover sometimes. I wouldn't really fight for things, preferring to choose peace. But now... I can't seem to do that. I try to do that. I try to stay calm, but I rage.  My question is, is what I'm doing ...

So... disclaimer... I'm not gonna hide names in this post, like I usually do for the sake of 'anonymity.' This is for Shane, who started off as my senior and my friend.  Yesterday morning, I called him for a chat, like I do sometimes, and... by the end of the call, I was crying. I told Shane about how I was physically assaulted and how no one helped me when it happened and I talked about it. Shane was really upset that I didn't tell him about what happened earlier. (This happened months ago, but it still has a really bad effect on me.) He said that if I had told him, he would have come to help me. In that moment, it felt so nice to know that there was someone who cared, and someone who would back me. He stayed on call until the tears ran dry, and checked on me through the day.  But... little did he know that he saved me once before, too. One day, I was with the person who hurt me, someone I can't name because honestly, I'm still scared. We were off campus. Shane...

I didn't fall for you at once I noticed you The way you walk The way you talk  Your presence was persistent But quiet and calming  You loved me quietly  But I was blind to it  Your love was like gravity, holding me in place  Keeping me from the past I ran from  You didn't ask me to forget my past,  But you remind me that I survived I have memorized your eyes, in all their moods Your lips, forming words I can read before you speak  Loving you is like exhaling After years of choking  There was no performance or fear  No shrinking or hiding to suit you  You made me the woman I am  And protected the girl in me  Thats why... I choose you  Everyday, always and forever  I love the past version of you, the present, and will love the future  You are where my heart goes without being told, and it is where I stay

This was a topic of debate in my class yesterday. I was reporting the proceedings and thus didn't have a chance to speak. However, I am very opinionated about the topic at hand and wanted to talk about my stance.  As you probably guessed, I think AI scuttles creativity. As a creative writer, I believe that creativity and imagination are synonymous with human life. If you ask AI for ideas, they are no longer yours. If you ask AI to brainstorm for you, it's not you who is doing the work. Thus, you can't take credit for the idea.  AI is a tool. Yes. A tool to assist, not to do your work for you. For example, if you have an outline of a story, AI could be used to check if you forgot something. However, it should not be telling you to add more. If it does, and you choose to use those ideas, you can't take credit for them.  AI can be used to proofread and to tell you if there are any plot holes or gaps or tangents in your story. I use AI for such purposes. I give it a complet...

If you know me, you know that I'm really active in class. Now, this is something that has followed me from my school days.  So, back in school, I thought this phenomenon of being the only one to raise my hand and offer to read aloud in class was because of my interests. I thought it was because I loved reading and because I knew I was going to study English Literature, so I had to read. (This is the reasoning of a 15 year old girl, by the way.) I thought that my classmates in college would be like me; jumping to answer questions and at the opportunity to read aloud in class. I thought they would have chosen to study literature because of their love for reading. (That was my reason for my choice.) However, when I got to college, there were only a few people who took this course because they wanted to, and even fewer who actually regularly participate in class. I was thinking about this the other day and I kinda ended up rethinking my evaluative capabilities.  But... in the end,...

An age ago, my ancestors lived Their glory days As they built an empire Meant to last forever They nourished the land And taught the young With stories of their childhood To spread inspiration and hope They found me, a little orphan They adopted me Took me in and nurtured me Training me to take their place and carry on their legacy As they embarked on a greater journey They entrusted their kindom to the Others, hoping for good I, not yet old enough to inherit, Sat waiting in the wings for my turn The Others were cruel They took what was given for granted They forgot that this was to be my birthright As they shunned me and locked me away When it was their turn to leave, I expected to regain what I lost My dignity, respect, and rights Instead, the Others left the kingdom to their followers Leaving me an outcast, I yearned for my ancestors If they were here, no one would have overlooked me I would have been safe and protected Now, I seize what I can,  Knowing that it is all mine I bid...