My Father's Son
I wrote perhaps a 5 page essay about my home life and the experiences involved. After finishing it and reading it all, I decided to delete the entirety of what I have written. Of it, I will leave merely the first two paragraphs, which are below. Extra candy to those who can guess why.
I truly absolutely hate being home. It is perhaps one of the most stressfull, horrible, and traumatizing experiences that I can go through, and unfortunately enough every time I do go home I leave a little more scarred. I am not quite sure at the level of detail I want to go into for the upcoming events and background, but ultimately this journal post is for my own gratification and therapy and not for your enjoyment, so excuse me if there are parts that seem disconnected. However, I must admit that there are parts that were worded and incorpated with the reader in mind, but not as much as you think.
Last August something happened that is definately one of this things that I do not want to go into. Suffice to say, even though I was there for only a week, what occured at that time drove me to end the life of many a cigarrette as well as to seek comfort and solitude at the end of shot glass. A lot of that emotion spilled into the Fall semester, and my roomates (and Dado) saw just a glimpse of it, but I quickly emmersed myself in school and drowned my sorrows in Physics. Its been a rough year. Since January its been really rough... So it begins:
-Hesham Zakaria
I truly absolutely hate being home. It is perhaps one of the most stressfull, horrible, and traumatizing experiences that I can go through, and unfortunately enough every time I do go home I leave a little more scarred. I am not quite sure at the level of detail I want to go into for the upcoming events and background, but ultimately this journal post is for my own gratification and therapy and not for your enjoyment, so excuse me if there are parts that seem disconnected. However, I must admit that there are parts that were worded and incorpated with the reader in mind, but not as much as you think.
Last August something happened that is definately one of this things that I do not want to go into. Suffice to say, even though I was there for only a week, what occured at that time drove me to end the life of many a cigarrette as well as to seek comfort and solitude at the end of shot glass. A lot of that emotion spilled into the Fall semester, and my roomates (and Dado) saw just a glimpse of it, but I quickly emmersed myself in school and drowned my sorrows in Physics. Its been a rough year. Since January its been really rough... So it begins:
-Hesham Zakaria