I wrote “The Beginning” not to sound sorry for myself or to say that nothing was great about coming to America. You see, everyone has the American dream. The dream of getting to the land of freedom. You can ask anyone over the seas, and most of them will probably be thrilled to come here.
Back to the reasoning, there is no reason really. I just wrote out of depression and maybe desperation, but really to fulfill my purpose and just to mention again, incase anyone misses it while looking at other entries, that I have been given the greatest gift that I could ever possibly receive. It was never “my dream” to come to America. I came to see my beloved father, that’s really all. But what I later found out was that if I had stayed in Tehran, the beautiful capital of Iran, it would have become a dream for me too. I would have wanted to leave at some point or another. But I got lucky. A dear friend of mine reminded me, after I wrote “The Beginning”, that I should not forget to thank my parents for bringing me here. It’s because of them that I have the ability to write from deep within my heart about my life and memories. I write, almost always, thinking of my past and everything that is credited to me being here, typing these words. I am nothing without the support and love from my family, my cousins, my friends, and my teachers who encouraged me to write. I owe this to them. And I want to thank them and all of my readers. It really means a lot to me that someone out there cares and can connect to what I write. It makes me happy; it makes me want to write…

The first time I walked on Manchester Street in Virginia, where I have been living now for about six years, I was an outsider, lost, looking for a way to fit into the crowd. A crowd of all nations, cultures with so many faces that mine was lost among them. I felt as though I would never be able to feel normal again. The unfamiliar roads were too foggy, too hard to pass through, so out of reach. I never thought I would make it; there were too many things to know. It was like starting life all over again, from zero. The stores were too big, the roads were too wide, I was a lost kid, trying to figure out where to go. Where ever I went, I was being watched; at least that’s how I felt at the time. The scarf around my head (at the time I still wore a scarf, I had been used to wearing it in Iran) felt too out of place. I never knew what to wear, how to look, what to say, I didn’t want to say anything. I hated going outside, everything was too strange, too different from what I had been used to. The nights were the worst, I had to sleep in an apartment where nothing felt real, the empty walls, the empty rooms, the loneliness of it still makes me sick. I was hurt, I felt betrayed. I felt betrayed because they told me America was going to be great. But it wasn’t, not then. I was alone and misunderstood, I was twelve years old. How was I supposed to understand that it was for the best, that it was the first step towards a successful future? Mornings were depressing; breakfast was a way to be distracted from the somber atmosphere. I felt small and belittled, a vapor. Life was unfair, ridiculous, but I had a loving mom and dad who left their children, my siblings, behind in hopes of meeting them again in America. They came to forget a past that was too unbearable and to give me a life where I could make my own decisions, find my own peace of mind and my freedom. It was a new beginning for them too. They understood why they had come, I hadn’t yet. I was just a beginner, a novice at a new life…

Is it okay to day dream about something you know won’t come true?
Is it okay to fantasize when you know it’s just a fantasy?
Sometimes I want some things to be true…even when they’re out of reach…I say to myself ‘so what’s wrong with a little day dreaming?’
Yeah, in the end I get hurt, but so what?
There are some things that happen early in life for some and later for others…for me it will be later…you know…love…not even that…it’s just a simple crush…anyway…
The days are so slow…I just want to get out of here…step into an airplane and go to…Spain, Italy, France…anywhere really…
I think I might go to New York…move there I mean…who knows…for now life is just what it is…i can’t change it…I…

I was so in love last night…so in love with the stars, the night sky and the sound of love…in love with the night of New York City…I didn’t want to come back to Virginia…because it’s a lonely city…I love people…I love New York…just the way I loved Tehran…
You have to hold on to things…they can easily slip out of your hands…you will never have the moments back…that’s just life…I’ve held on to some memories…I’ve refused to let them go…
I am happy but my heart aches sometimes…a deep ache for so many things…for things I fantasize…for things I lost…for things I will never have…
It was a short trip…my school trip to NYC…but I loved it and I didn’t want to leave the city…you feel less like an outsider in the city…your forget that you’re different…you just blend in… like camouflage

In a small burger house, hungrily waiting for chicken fillet to arrive

The city-slanted picture

I don’t know how this year passed by…it went slowly yet quickly…i hated it and i loved…some days were disconcerted and confusing…some days i just wanted to quit…but on occasion i loved many days…and now it is finally ending…i am getting older and there are so many things that a normally 17-year-old would have done by now…but i didn’t do those things…i don’t drive yet, in fact i don’t even have my permit yet (gasp…)but don’t worry i will get it this summer, i didn’t get a job…but don’t worry i’ll do that too…
gosh, what did i do?? and i spent at least an hour everyday complaining about everything…but i thanked god too for all that he has given me…sometimes i still wonder why he did and does…
there are days that you think you’ve had enough of everything, but in the big picture there is never enough of everything…there are so many things that i myself can not wait to do, wait to see, and even though some days i just want to melt or disappear, i still want to be around…it’s still exciting, even though i can’t do much on my own and i depend (oh god) i depend so many people, i still think it is worth the ride!

Sometimes we search for the perfect moment, the perfect dance, the perfect picture, all the while knowing that they are unreachable. Sometimes we yearn for a picture-perfect life, but…
It’s not easy…life I mean… there are days that you just want to quit, there are times that you just think to yourself ‘what’s the point?’ We are always trying to figure out the answers, but some equations just don’t have solutions.
I’ve lived all my life, building up fantasies and dreams, some actually came true, others I had to let go of…
So I guess that is it…there are no answers or solutions…you just have to let it go…the urge of finding out a purpose in every little piece of your life…some things just happen…

Have you ever been so happy that you just wanted to scream and fly?
I waited five years for this day to come. My sister is finally coming to the U.S. For years I dreamed of having my big sister back in my life. I dreamed of her being here for my birthday. I dreamed of her in my arms. I don’t know how these years passed by me. I don’t know how many nights and days I prayed to God to bring her to me. Having older siblings is a great gift. I don’t know how to thank God. I don’t know what to do. I am excited, nervous; just…I can’t believe it. And the funny thing is that I knew it all along. I knew this day would come. I knew there’d be a day when I’d be hugging my sister again. So many years passed and I didn’t get to have her give me advice. For years we said our birthday wishes on the phone. For years I kept thinking ‘God, when are you going to let me see her?’ When I went back to Iran two years ago, my sister and I both cried in the airport. That was the last time we saw each other. It’s been hard. Many hard years have passed, but we are finally going to be together.

I don’t like looking at magazines when I go to Barnes & Noble. I used to and still do. But now it makes me sick. I’m sick of looking at the private life of so and so, their break ups, their pregnancies, their marriage, and so forth. I mean, who cares? Why is image so important these days? Why is a certain haircut not right for your face? Who says it’s not right? What’s worse is that people actually waste hours at the bookstore looking at Jennifer Lopez and her wedding pictures or Britney’s secret marriage. I admit I do it too sometimes. However, now days I just read a book, drink hot chocolate, and quickly glance at the magazine covers.

USA Today is an amazing place. It’s where everything happens, the news you see on television happens right in front of you. Our journalism staff got to visit it today, including me. I can’t explain the rush of excitement I felt as I walked around. Looking at reporters’ desks that were piled up with paper and their computers ready for their stories made me want to sit and start working right away. I’ve had the dream of being a journalist for a long time. It just sounds like such an exciting and thrilling job. I feel like I’ve accomplished something just by knowing what I want to be. It’s scary being out in the real world. You don’t get that feeling in school. In school you feel trapped, powerless and weak. I’ve always been scared of growing up, but I’m growing up everyday anyway. It’s a step-by-step process, like when a child first learns to crawl, stand, walk, and then run. It will be a difficult journey, but it’ll be worth it and that’s all that matters right now.

I was sitting in the cafeteria, surrounded by red and pink balloons. As I walked the hallways, once again I was faced with giant balloons that came right in my face. Couples walked the hallways, hand in hand, whispering to each other, showing off their happy smiles and glowing with pride. Teachers wore ridiculously red flowered-shirts, brightening the hallways with their “Happy Valentines Day” smiles.
As kids went about, happily holding their chocolate boxes and heart-shaped balloons, I wondered how the others felt. You know, the ones that never get gifts, never get boxes of chocolate or even a Hershey’s kiss. How do they feel? From morning till noon they have to cross the halls, with at least one balloon flying their way. Or they might see a couple kissing in the corner, each holding a Valentines Day balloon or a carnation. Maybe it doesn’t affect them; maybe it is just another day. But they will always be reminded of that day. The day when stores fill their shelves with red hearts and candles and couples spend their savings on chocolates and cards and roses, Valentines Day.