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Just pray to god. 
No matter how hopeless you feel just pray. Cry your eyes out.
 And never lose faith. 
Because if you lose that, you've got nothing left. It's the best thing anyone can be blessed with. 
Just have faith. Pray for what now seems impossible. And be patient. Patience patience, my dear. Just hang on. There's so much good coming your way, you just gotta hold on a little more. And a little more, till God wants to bring that one joy that scatters away all the grief you've dealt with! 
Just crack that smile. And know that so much more blessings are awaiting you. 
Don't give up.
Never give up.

Peace!

There's something about doing something, anything for that matter, for the sake of Allah that leaves you so assured; very calm. He has the vast knowledge of the unknown and will only grant what's best for you, whether it's in this life or the eternal one. Faith restores your happiness and tranquility. Trusting him with every little detail of life makes a smile not so hard to crack. A connection, a relationship with the Creator enhances security of the soul. Doubts and worries won't completely disappear because those are natural human instincts, but that belief that God is in control of it all, that he says be and it will be, blows away those instincts ever so swiftly!

Trust In Allah

I desired a star 

But maybe God had a moon 

Written for me.

I wanted something so eagerly!

It's strange isn't it? Very  eerie!

How foolish we could be 

When we forget about the Almighty...

How we could get lost in wanting something 

Then have it taken away.

But that's what's good for us

So we don't get led astray!

I desired a breathtaking moment

But maybe God had an eternity for me to revel in.

It's enchanting, isn't it? How He's willing to forgive our every sin! 

I desired an earth 

But maybe God had a better worth 

Written for me.

Maybe He wanted a paradise 

For my eyes to admire and see.

It's lovely, isn't it ? When we trust Him all the way

It's a beautiful thing when we remember Him every minute of every day 

Blame Game

     A child walks into a room and breaks his mom's favorite vase. Mom gasps and asks, "who did this?!" All-while knowing plainly who did it! The guilty little human answers," The baby did it!"  

     A typical scenario. Yet, it has so much to tell.

     The child's claim is a vengeful lie. A truthful lie too. It's not an utter lie though because it is an innate reaction: blame! 

     Maybe what the child was unable to say was: breaking your favorite vase was my way of asking for the attention you've been paying only to the baby. So, yes, in that child's mind he's more than innocent and the baby did do it. 

     But putting a blame on mistakes you know were purely your fault isn't gonna always be cute and adorable. You grow up and you learn that a blame only gives a temporary relief to an ensuing guilt. 

And God created us and he knows that it's only our nature to put a blame on anyone or anything but ourselves when we're in a catastrophe, and that's why he conveyed to us the story of his prophet Adam( PBUH). Before Allah even created Adam, he told the Angels that he'll send him to Earth. God knew that Adam was to be sent down to Earth before he created him; he's the All-Knowing. Once Adam (PBUH) ate from the forbidden tree, the first blame of mankind was instantly sought out: shaitan ( the devil). And that's the challenge, you have to fight your inner demons and the devil if you want to make it back to heaven!

Mistakes and Imperfections

     At my siblings' elementary school, they used to tell them every morning, "If something is right, do it! If it's not, don't do it!" 

     Sometimes I wonder how perfect would life be if everyone did do that. But then, I remind myself that life is not perfect, and it was never meant to be. It's full of flaws and imperfections that give life it's uniqueness! Essentially, we are life; full of flaws and imperfections! Yet, there's this desire within us to attain perfection. And what is perfection, anyway? 

     This innate desire is the root of all good and evil.  

     The more we strive for "perfection" the higher the standards we're bound to reach. Consequently, the more striking our disappointments will be. A dichotomy ? A dilemma? And like Taylor apathetically sang out: call it what you want, yeah, call what you want to! 

You see, it's all about balance. You have got to find it in your life. So it's okay to sin and be mistaken, but you also have to repent and find a way to correct whatever wrong you committed. You have to always look back and make sure that you are stable. You can't live life being happy all the time with a bright smile that's flashed for everyone, and you sure enough can't be a depressed recluse who abandons everyone and everything neither!  Life is not meant to be spent chasing something that you know isn't attainable, i.e. perfection.       Likewise, you also can't let it fade away by protecting yourself from undesirable situations and feelings. Life is not perfect. It will never be. So you might as well revel in the imperfections of it whilst you're still breathing  #NoteToSelf 

Political Toys

By Nuha Dadesh 

     Let me start out by stating that politics is a dirty game; a disgusting, filthy one. It's like a pool of water that's infected with fungus, algae, and all kinds of mycotoxins! You can say that meddling in it would be like diving into un-chlorinated water!

     Since we are referring to it as a game, lets identify the players: the ones who wanted to play because they know the rules and how to find their loopholes, and those who just found themselves in it and can't come out. At the end of every game, there always ends up those who are considered the winners who can't help but burst with joy, and obviously the losers. But it's a malicious game, this politics, and these losers end up not only losing in it, but at everything else!

     Every politician needs a way to propose his/her agenda. However, politicians' agendas are not what's necessarily the best for everyone else, but they won't be the ones to tell you that,of course! So they find a voice that you won't just believe, but you'll also admire and take heed at whenever you hear it.
First- they need your attention and a way to lure you in. And what are the attractions one succumbs to easily? I'll answer that: a coherent smart-mouth with a pretty face speaking in a flawless accent. Moreover, blatant lies and made-up tales are easily distinguishable and dismissed! Hence, the truth will be essential -although it's usually rebuked by those politicians. The players will take hold of it, twist, and turn it into their own version of the truth! In other words, they'll shape reality into something that your brain will be tempted by and will simultaneously fit their agenda.
Lastly, I read once that "competence is attractive", and so this voice will be perfectly competent at being heard. All is left is for the audience to listen and believe whatever is told on that box with the irresistible, good-looking faces!

     A story that got Libyans all over the world staggering is the story of the slave auctions in Libya. First and foremost, there's no denying that this is not one of those "Fake News" segments. It involved some ugly truths about Libya and its Libyans. As implied, there's racism in Libya. For instance, some backward-minded Libyans have the audacity to call out people of color a word that means slave (which is a fact that CNN reporter didn't forget to mention).However, average, every-day Libyans wouldn't stoop so low as to have these auctions of human beings who only ended up here because they desperately wanted a refuge as a normal sighting with no backlash against. In fact, Libya is a home to many refugees who are treated with respect, sympathy, and empathy. The CNN report that has apparently astounded people all over the world, including celebrities who helped spread it on their private social media networks, unequivocally has a greater, political purpose not easily comprehended by average denizens of the world. Maybe, it has a pathetic aim at giving the US government and its French ally a mandate to invade Libya and, simultaneously,an illusion that it's serving the world an act of heroism-when in fact, it's the enemy we're victims of.
     This report reminded me of when Himmler's SS troops marched into a Polish radio-channel studio and fabricated an audio that implied that Poland had declared war on Germany to help Hitler's horrendous agenda. While, as time revealed, it was Germany who desired a war with Poland.

     I guess, there will come a day when we'll see the consequences of this innocent, sympathetic appearing report, and politicians will laugh at how gullible we can be. Nevertheless, there will also come a day when they will be humiliated by their vicious acts in front of all mankind on Judgment Day, and they won't be the ones with the last laugh.

- There And Back Again

I've been hard on myself lately 

I feel like everything I do

Every thought I think 

The words I utter 

And the feelings that I feel 

Are wrong. So wrong and they're not true. 

I castigate myself now even when I'm proud 

From the moment I wake up, I feel like a barking hound!

I just ramble on and on 

Time goes by 

And I smile then I sigh.

It's like everything came crashing down.....

And I don't have the energy to build it again 

But I know that I have to

I need help but I know better now than to seek it from anyone else

So I look above to the One who knows my true self

And I pray and repent to Him, yet I still feel like I'm not doing it right enough

I feel so exhausted 

So not tough

I feel deflated 

I feel worn out 

I need some refining 

I need to abolish my every doubt 

A new mindset ? 

But I liked the old one. 

And I loved it and adored it. 

But I know now that it was foolish

And I can feel myself changing 

Into something new this time 

Never been, never seen before

I felt my heart crack and now there's a light trying to shine through

But it hurts a lot 

And I don't know what to do! 

I'm embracing the pain 

Letting it bruise me 

I am trying to pray; constantly 

Yet, like I said before, 

I'm worn out and completely torn. 

I'm an emotional wreck 

Trying to stay afloat on a sinking deck 

Maybe it's the end 

Maybe it's a new beginning 

I just don't know 

If I'm losing or if I'm winning! 

By Nuha Dadesh

December 10 2017 

2:38 PM 

النسيان و التقلب

"سمي الإنسان بالإنسان لأنه ينسى و سمي القلب بالقلب لأنه يتقلب" 

قد ننسى موقفا كان يوما في حياتنا يمتلك الكثير من المعاني و قد أصبح بفضل النسيان مخبأً في أجواء ذهننا

قد ننسى كلمات رددناها على مرور الأشهر  لأنها فقدت معانيها في الوقت الراهن 

قد ننسى بعض الأشخاص كانوا جزءا منا؛ فقط،  لأن الزمن نزعهم منا 

قد ننسى نبضة قلب شعرنا بها بشدة

 في لحظة; فقط، لأن القلب لم يتمكن من تكرار ذلك التدفق مرة أخرى 

يتقلب هو، و نحن ننسى ، و تمر الأيام و الليالي. و تمضي سنين!

و ربما نتذكر و يرجع هو بعد ذلك التقلب إلى ما كان عليه من خفقان

......

Hysterical Euphoria

     If you ever see my clique and I together and if you do or don't know us, you'd probably wonder why we laugh so hard and too much about anything and everything. Let me tell you! We laugh because almost everything is an inside joke to us. A word can have an entire story behind it, and that story is most likely hilarious. But since we are aspiring pharmacologists, I decided to explain the pharmacological concept of our many hysterias.

     Firstly, dopamine is one of love's prominent hormones. And when we see each other, it automatically secretes itself in excess amounts.  Maybe it's the overload that causes the ensuing side effects and promptly makes us look like complete buffoons! We, ourselves, are concerned about the state of our well-being too when we realize how pathetic something is after we're done laughing about it for like an hour. Hence we justify it by joking about the probability of our food containing amphetamines. Yes, we do realize that we resemble people who are high on morphine sometimes. However, we can't control our euphoric behavior. 

     Anyways, if you think we are victims of an Opioid crisis, we're not. We are actually very fortunate people who found themselves during times of distress, which miraculously inverted into happy times 

#انقذو_المدينة_القديمة

يا ليت العالم يأخذ نبذة 

عن الجميلة: مدينتي القديمة 

يا ليت العالم يتأمل في آثارها التي لا زالت ثابتة هنا 

و كأنها تروي قصةُ ما كان عليه أجدادنا 

يا ليت العالم يأتي و يزور أرضنا الحبيبة 

يتمتع بجمال كل من نالوت و يفرن و لبدة. 

20

 I can now say:
 I've been, for almost two decades, existing 

 I've accomplished some dreams and others I'm still listing!

 I'm learning lots and lots;

 Continuously connecting the dots.

 I get sad.

 I get mad.

 And I cry .

 But I also learnt to smile and to laugh 

 Because at any moment I can die.

 I love it when I'm utmost connected to Allah! 

 I try and yearn to get close to him 

 Sometimes, because I'm human, I sin 

 And I despise myself when I'm astray 

 So I bow and prostrate: I pray 

Maybe I'll have two more decades of existing 

Maybe I'll have more 

Maybe I'll have less

But that's not something that I obsess 

About anymore 

I have an afterlife to look for 

So I hope my time of return is when I'm at my best

So in my grave, I can finally rest!

Happiness

    
 I've been contemplating the inexplicable abstract of happiness. After lots of pondering, prayers, and emotional writing, I've come to only one conclusion.
     Happiness is an illusion that you have to create in order for it to be a reality. You can be happy for any reason; you don't have to justify it. It's soooooooo much easier to complain and whine. It's so easy to cry and give in. It's very easy to quit and surrender! But if you just push back, fake a smile, and believe that there is SO MUCH good in the world, it'll come rushing to you when you least expect it.
     Moreover, the phrase, "In through one ear and out the other" is the least realistic proverb I've come to know. Because words come through both ears and diffuse to your brain and heart and will consequently affect all your other organs. So what you gotta do is suppress those negative remarks with positive ones. It doesn't matter where you can get them from as long as you make them flutter around within you! So be happy and smile and rejoice and believe in yourself. Know that Allah will mend your broken heart. He will grant you better things. He is there to protect you wherever you may be. So smile like a kid in a candy store, and I assure you: you'll find happiness. 😊😊😊😊😊😊😊

الأمل

" وَ لا تَهِنُوا وَلَا تَحْزَنُوا وَأَنتُمُ الْأَعْلَوْنَ إِن كُنتُم مُّؤْمِنِينَ " - آل عمران "

!أية من الله. أمر رباني. إذا تمعنت فيه لاهتزت ما فيك من مشاعر. 

عندما يأمر الله عباده بشئ ما فمن اليقين أنه أعلم بالخير الذي سيجلبه هذا الإرشاد و عن الشر الذي سيبعده أبعد المسافات.
رب رحيم و غفور و ودود. يريد أن يرحم و يغفر و يرزقنا بالمودة. و ما علينا إلا إتباع
ما يخبرنا به في قرآنه الكريم
فكيف لنا أن نحزن و هناك دعاء يغير الأقدار؟ كيف لنا أن لا نفرح و نبتسم و هناك آيات الله لا نكاد خفيانها؟
كيف للإنسان أن يستمر في السمع لوسوسة الشيطان و هناك أذكار ترطب اللسان و تمحو الذنوب؟
إن لم يكن الرؤوف يريد لنا الهناء و السكينة، لما جعل لنا الاستغفار و صلوات النوافل لكي نقترب إلى رحمته التي وسعت كل شئ؟
الحزن و الكئابة مشاعر قد يقع الإنسان في الإدمان عليها. لهذا عليك ان تتخطاها عندما تأتي و تجنبها كل ما قدرت. توكل على المهيمن في كل شئ و ظن به الخير و ستجده في كل حين و آن بإذنه. و إن لم تجد سعادتك في الدنيا فعليك التمسك بالدعاء أن يرزقك الله إياها في الآخرة الباقية.
---نهى ددش---

Sara

     Sara. A common name throughout the world. I've met many awesome Sara's and who's, but there's one special Sara that's very dear to my heart. Her name is Sara Nabeel Ali ❤ This is the story of how I met her and how we became the ultimate soul-sisters.
     At the end of eighth grade, we moved houses. And because we moved to Lanson Avenue, that meant that I had to go to Edsel Ford and not Fordson, which was the high school all my middle school friends were going to. I was devastated. I spent the entire summer crying my heart out and begging my parents to let me go to Fordson like the other two guys on my street, but I was destined to go to Edsel! My first day was probably the most horrible day ever. I was sick and my voice was practically gone. All the ninth graders were new, but I was the new-new girl! My first hour was gym class, and I didn't know where the gym was because I didn't go to the orientation. I found this Link Crew Leader, a senior, that was sweet enough to take a look at my schedule and show me where I needed to go. Anyways, I sat all the way at the end of the bleachers, and to my left I saw this pretty girl. I don't know why, but the way she was talking and smiling caught my attention. Ms.Terry called out my name for attendance and I kept saying, "Here!" A few girls finally heard me and told her that I wasn't absent after all! That pretty girl was Sara. 

     I don't remember how and when we actually started talking, but I remember how we used to walk around the gym and she'd tell me a story about her cousins ,Kylie and Kevin. And I started anticipating gym class everyday because I wanted to know the end of the story- only to realize that she didn't have cousins named Kylie and Kevin only to find out that was only a story out of her wild imagination. I remember it was a very captivating story. She told me, because she felt guilty, " I just told you that so we could have something to talk about and be friends!" And then, we started talking about everything and anything! I started to think that Edsel wasn't so bad after all. We made friends, some realllllly awesome friends in the meanwhile, but we were always together. It got to the point where people started thinking we were twins. Not sisters, but identical twins. 💝 We always laughed at such remarks and replied with " We're from different continents!!!" She's 75% Yemeni and what's left of the percentage is Native American.
I got to know her bit by bit! And I really started to know who she was after she was absent from school for a day or two! I remember asking the girls in my class about her! And my friend Esra answers, "Oh, you didn't hear?" And I knew it wasn't gonna be good news! "What happened?" "Her father passed away yesterday!" And my heart sank and broke. I was devastated! I remember just being shell shocked and wondering what she was going through. She's a strong girl, I'll tell you that. She came the following day to school because she cared about her attendance record and she knew better than to skip school, and many other reasons that make her up to the unique individual she is! I didn't know what to say. I just looked at her and she was so sad. Terrified of her new world. I wanted to cry, but I didn't want her to so I just held my tears in and tried my best to comfort her. She was holding back a river of tears. I remember her eyes vividly and I wish she never had to go through that. My dear Sara stayed strong. She kept coming to school, and one day she worked up the courage to tell me in explicit detail about the death of her beloved father. I tried my best to be there for her. I really did. And I hope I did that. During her time of mourning, we developed a strong bond. She would listen to every word I had to say, and I would do the same for her. It was so effortless doing that! I know that she's my best friend because every time we'd go out to the track in gym class, and I would tell her " Look Sara, my eyes look better in the sun! " and she'd reply every time with a, "Yes they do!" She never told me to stop saying that. 

     As the year went by, we made memories that are forever engraved in my memory. I remember when Ms.Prieur told us to narrate a song in the form of a poem, and she did the best presentation. Sara performed Adele's "Turning Tables" so dramatically, I was so impressed, as I'm sure the rest of the class was too! I think my favorite memory was when we got out of Ms.Prieur's class and giggling while saying " Do you bite your thumb at me sir?" "No, sir!" "Do you quarrel sir?" "No, sir!" We realized then that I had a horrible British accent. Sara says it sounds like a "dying hyena!" And another memory of Ms.Prieur's class was when we finished reading Romeo and Juliet and Sara sewed her very own princess's dress for the Renaissance'a festival, and impressed us all! She looked like true princess. Better than Juliet could've ever looked. That day Sara came on my bus and we went home together. My mom was in awe at how much alike we truly looked. She gasped and said, " subhana Allah!!" 

     And there are so many more memories that morphed me into the person I am today.
Sophomore year was more sentimental, because we both knew that I'd be heading back to Libya! And she promised that she'd make it the best year of my life. And it truly was. We didn't have any classes together, but always were together! I would come to school, head to my locker ,and then to Sara's locker, and go to the cafeteria together. We were probably the only two who were laughing so early in the morning. We would laugh and talk facing each other and when the five minute bell rings, she'd walk me to my first hour. We would see each other between the other hours and she would give me a note she wrote to me during class that said something funny, sweet, or totally unexpected. She'd come to my locker after fourth hour and we'd go to the cafeteria again for lunch. And we made so many memories, promises, and inside jokes during those 30 minutes. On Fridays, we'd stay after school to attend a lecture at the Islamic club, which we became devout members of because we were both interested in our beloved religion. The bus ride home was always the best, and I believe that's where I got my love for car rides.
Sara's so cute! She'd ask Mr.Cook, the best Chemistry teacher, if she could write " Hi Nuha! " or something of that sort on his unused chalkboard , and he'd let her because he's awesome! And I'd walk in my sixth hour to find my name written in big, bold letters on the board! And I'd write something back for her to see the next day 💜
The week before I came back to Libya, I had a goodbye party at Hemlock park! She showed up of course with my other besties, and she was the last to leave. We both cried. And she gave me a pack of letters; you see Sara didn't just make me one letter, but a whole bunch of them. And each of them had the title " Open when..." I still have them of course, along with the memory box she made me!
I have opened several of them. For example, the one that said, " Open when you tell someone that your eyes look better in the sun!" I laughed ( and I still laugh) the first time I opened it to find out that she wrote, " Seriously? You still tell people that! Well, they do!" And I'm waiting for the days when I'll open the others such as " Open when you're engaged." And I hope I never open the ones where she wrote things like, "Open when you get rich and forget about me!" 

     When I came to Libya, she encouraged me to write an article stating the differences between America and Libya. I decided to portray it by writing a comparison between my two high schools. She went ahead and convinced Mr.Rydzik, my Journalism and Newstaff teacher, to get it printed on one of The Bolt newspaper's editions! That was something I'll never forget. That I'd have my article printed on my high school's newspaper when I wasn't even going there anymore. That gave me so much positive energy that is inexplicable in words.

     She said she's making me a "Care-Package" that involves another set of "Open when letters!" I can't wait till I receive it.
We sill talk. Whenever we can. She knows my life here as if she's with me and I know hers. We send pictures and letters and videos! Love doesn't know what distance is. And we have been best friends although we haven't seen each other for five years!!! And I pray for her all the time. And I know she prays for me. I hope Allah blesses her beautiful soul. And I pray that we'd sit across a table again in our lifetime and chat just like good old times ❤❤😘

College Life in Libya ~ Part V

By Nuha Dadesh 

What is happiness, but an escape from everything that isn't!

"Who are you?" I mumbled. "It's me! Maram." "Who?" "Nuha?!" That conversation unofficially declared the start of yet another semester at my beloved department of Pharmacy. It was five in the morning then, and it wasn't my fault that I sounded like an oblivious weirdo because I wasn't expecting any calls just a few hours after I had gone to sleep. I groggily woke up that day and wondered why in the world were there missed calls from friends so early in the morning. I called Hadeel up and she excitedly told me, " So? Did you register for your classes?" "Aha! That's what that fuss was all about!" I thought. "No!" "Go register for them now before all the seats get taken up!" she advised me.

My fifth semester began under the administration of another new dean.
On Facebook, there were numerous posts celebrating his proclaimed position. Mr.Gusbi firstly appointed the doctors at the faculty to become counselors for students to assist with scheduling classes, solving issues that some students found themselves stressing over, and to advise on any topic when implied necessary. His agenda seemed firm and serious; you had to respect firm and serious!
Every story commences with a tedious beginning that unfolds to a plot, which gets twisted by an unexpected climax. The turning point of the storyline is followed by the resulting resolution that's concluded by a type of ending, which is only the beginning of another story. I'd like to consider this semester as the 'unfolding of a plot' portion of my story. Since I joined the faculty, I've morphed into someone else that still hints off at who I was once upon a time.

The campus and its vibes aren't the ideal representation of Libya's turbulent reality. Although I'm a night owl, I'm also a morning person. I'd get in the car with my father and head to college. On the way, we had gotten accustomed to witnessing the daily misfortunes Libyans have to deal with. Firstly, we'd pass by the bank and if the bank had cash, then we'd find queues of people waiting to get a copious portion of their rightfully entitled money. They all had to withdraw the same amount of money that was permissible by the bank; it's like communism gone wrong! "Humiliation!" my dad would say with an agonized look. Down the road, palm trees would render Tripoli with beautiful views. However, the lack of government action to protect its beauty led to the city's horrendous vandalization. Almost every wall is invaded by graffiti; since not all who spray paint are artists, they're not always something to admire and ponder at. Even the air is victimized by the pollution that results from the stench of the piled up garbage on the sides of many roads. Moreover, all kinds of checkpoints may be found on the way; there are ones that are occupied by unidentified masked faces with guns hung to their chests, and others by those who identify as our police. Their protection excludes those children selling napkins during the traffic lights' red duration. Unfortunately, I watched one of those innocent children literally grow up in the streets. While I finished half my journey at college and increased my knowledge, the poor boy spent the past two years becoming an expert at selling napkin boxes to drivers once they're forced to stop by the red lights. As we circle around what is described as the mini-island to head to Tripoli's University parking lot, I always got a feeling that I'm not in Libya any longer, but at a place where I belong and blend in.

My fear of heights is ever present. I know that because whenever I see the stacks of stairs I have to go down from the parking lot, I always say my prayers so I don't find myself stumbling and attracting unsolicited attention. After I safely get down, I smile. I like it here. A lot. I feel welcomed-every time! My days would usually start off in the Montada, a study hall where not a lot of studying gets done. I loved it when Farah,Maram, Saba, and/or Hadeel called me up and asked to meet there! Sometimes, we studied like the biggest nerds because we had an impending exam. Other times, we studied because we didn't want to lag behind, and our studying session would most likely be interrupted by a talk about a topic that's irrelevant of what we were supposed to study! My favorite conversation with Farah in the Montada was when she vented about her struggles as a Palestinian! The conversation was triggered by Trump's announcement about Jerusalem being the new capital of Isreal. She told me how she cried at his impudent words. Her storytelling about how it all began with a treacherous act by the zionists that led to her not getting the privileges we all forget about absentmindedly opened my eyes to some gruesome truths about the world we live in. When members of the student counsel hung up Palestinian flags and posters in the hallways of the faculty that indicated our solidarity, I knew that this thoughtful act wasn't going to change neither Trump nor Netneyaho's mind, but I knew that my sweet Farah was going to feel a tad, bit better.

The scheduling of the lectures didn't coincide appropriately with the classes I needed to take, but I went ahead and took them anyways because I'm a wild rebel. Dr.Saqer's lectures were not to be missed. I made sure to make up for the General Microbiology lectures I missed by taking the voice records of him and listening to them carefully since he was spilling information as he spoke. The way he spoke was succinct but simultaneously explicit; my favorite kind of teaching. Furthermore, I don't think anybody skipped the Pharmacology lectures because whether it was Dr. Malak Aljafari, or Dr.Shaaban Saad, or Dr.Ahmed Tawti, they always got us attentive the entire hour- each, by their unique method of getting their job done just right. I loved how Dr.Malak always began the lecture with a quick review of the previous one. Dr.Shaaban amazed us all at how simple he made each topic. For instance, when we were learning about heart failure and the drugs for its treatment, he began with talking about how our bodies don't let the heart take a break. "By whipping," he emphasized, "and sometimes it gets whipped so much that it dies altogether." There was a metaphor in what he said, I just didn't know what it was. More than once during his lectures, I would look to my side and whisper to Maram "He's amazing!" She'd nod in approval as she payed attention with her hands folded. Furthermore, Dr.Twati strived to teach us about the lessons he learned throughout his pharmaceutical career. In addition, Medicinal Chemistry was a subject to take seriously because although the lectures were mind-entertaining, studying it required focus and willpower. Dr.Omran Fahdi's and Dr.Talal gave their utmost best at teaching the drugs' structures and activity relationships!
In between the lectures, I would take a break from my studies and meet up with my companions. Sometimes it was the future Pharmacists I would spend time laughing with at Pharmacological jokes we make up. Other times, I would meet up with Arjy, Ebtehal, and Kawter: the British Girls. Their British accent just adds to their adorableness! And if my Americanized bestie Esra, who's also a medical student, comes with us, we'd jest at how the Brits are turning us into 'accent sponges'.

In this faculty, there's many who I would consider my role models. A group of these role models are the demonstrators at the labs. My favorite is Nesreen Moagel, the princess of the Chemistry department. Not only is she a demonstrator at the Medicinal Chemistry labs, but she's also a Masters' student. She inspires me by her humbleness that's regardless of her many accomplishments and smart brains.
However, not all who roam the hallways come for a significant purpose. You'd find many standing there for the sole purpose of eye-candy! Their harassment is disgusting, but is mostly seen as a norm by my Libyan society which infuriates me on many levels.

The driving force for any studying to get done was the examinations. They never stopped coming. We had to take countless quizzes during labs and lectures. Also, there was a mid-term exam. We had lab finals and finals for the theoretical potions of our subjects. Nonetheless, studying was a less of a burden when I did it with friends. I remember walking into the library with a panic face one time, but Maram saved the day by simplifying the Biochemistry sheets! In the library, on the day of our Medicinal Chemistry Lab midterm, I'm sure it looked like we were having a blast, but the adorable Mahabba and I were actually trying to find easy ways to memorize the uses of Thiotepa, Isoniazid, and many other drugs. Moreover, we didn't get enough time to study for the Medicinal Chemistry final! Thus, Farah and Maram sent me paragraphs and called me each day before the dreaded exam to ease the studying process for me since they took the class the previous semester and knew of its difficulties. Last but definitely not the least, Hadeel would explain anything for me if I asked for her help, even on the night of my last final!!

The finals arrived quicker than anticipated, but took more than a month for them to finally mark the end of the semester. Each final had its challenges. For me, it was my horrible case of tonsillitis that took a toll on me and had an unfortunate impact on my grades. I realized how much of an indulger I am in my studies, because I was reading the labels on all my medications and squeaking with joy when I found out that I knew something prior to reading it on the label. All thanks to Allah, who I never stopped praying to, I finished the semester with a satisfied smile :)

The semester had sentimental value. I learned and learned, that's for sure! Friendships were easily made! The girls of my class are geniuses, kind-hearted lovelies. Each girl had a unique characteristic that specialized her from the others. As I saw many posts from our doctors, praising my class for being outstanding, I thanked Allah for making me become a part of this awesome mass!

Lastly, at this faculty, I didn't just escape from everything that wasn't happiness, but approached everything that was!

Paradox

I am the definition of a paradox
I have a set of keys and many locks 

I smile when I sigh and I sigh when I laugh
I complain and whine but I'm grateful for what I have.
I know that love is unconditional, but under some conditions it's not
Fighting for what I want is crucial, but sometimes I forget why I fought

When I eat, I feel guilty and when I don't, I'm craving everything
I feel like a peasant reveling in a palace of a generous king

I'm capable of happiness and sadness as well
I desire an eternity in heaven but I know there's a hell
When I'm melancholic,
I get a nostalgia for the times when I genuinely smiled
And whilst I'm feeling hysterically wild,
I get a turbulent rush of emotions: very chaotic

I know what happiness feels like and how to get there
Yet, at times of distress, I lose all energy to bear
The heavy burdens that crush my shoulders
Like some destructive machinery: heavy artillery and boulders
But there's nothing to do sometimes but to endure all the pain
Because with that, I've learnt, comes great gain

So the only thing my soul doesn't contradict
Is the assurance that only good comes out of a strict-
Self management and self discipline
In times of obedience and impulsive sin