Dunya Depression

I want to be that girl again.

I want to be that girl who wakes up with light in her steps and a supplication on her lips, who effortlessly slips into running shoes and hits the pavement and flies over excuses, misgivings and ghosts of the past. The girl who has enough sense of self to touch the ground with her forehead and submit five times a day, who can trade in her chai latte for a page of the Quran during Ramadan.

I want to be that girl who edits entire sequences in her head at night, who sleeps with one arm outstretched to a notebook and pen so she’s ready the moment inspiration strikes. I want to be that girl who can copy edit in four languages. I want to be that girl who doesn’t let a moment slip by, wasted.

I want to be good again. I want to be me again. I want to be me, instead of simply wanting to be wanted.

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