The Sun & Her Flowers

Your admin just turned 21. 😊

I usually look at my heavily congested class schedules for the coming months and wonder how exactly they were made to be the way they are. Did someone just squeeze whatever was possible into the time they were given, or did they plan for us to learn with the right pace and workload? Maybe it’s not up to them. Then who came up with the deadlines for what we need to know? Did that entity optimize ways we could input and digest information, or did they just assume we’re supposed to take in whatever was shoved into our tired minds? Do the people that expect so damn much from us also realize we have other things going on in our lives too? Does the teacher in class not just passively know but really understand that all the other teachers and subjects are just as bulky and pressuring? Is emotional frustration a concern in school curriculum designs too, or do they get recency bias and assume whatever is on our plate is so much “easier” than what’s on theirs? If I don’t make it, would any of them care, really, or is their only concern to make me do it all over again? If they read this, would they assume I’m just emotionally weak and tell me I don’t belong here? That this is only a place for the ones who can handle everything and still be able to plaster a smile on their face?… A game designed only for the deserving, right? Does that make me unworthy because they went through the same thing and came out just fine; because they memorized everything there was and came out the other side without a scratch? I refuse to take any of that crap. Every last one of them was pushed against a wall at some point and felt like their lungs were about to give out. I know they all wanted to give up at some point. I know they have been where I am right now, and I know I am no less than them, and I know I am worthy. Regardless of how things will go. (2) @thesunandherflowerss 💛

*has a long, busy, stressful day...decides to go to bed early* "So 12 minus 4, that should be around 8 hours of sleep. I'll feel energetic tomorrow 😊" *goes to bed, closes eyes, waits there awkwardly for the gods of sleep to come get me* 30 minutes pass by "It's okay, I'm just a little early for my usual bed time. I'll be gone in a minute....right? 👀" *tries forcing a yawn, rubbing my eyes, and every other google remedy* "What were those ligaments that hold the liver in place, again?..... Sleep, Eden, sleep." Another 15 min "Is this going to be like one of those days where I don't sleep enough and can't focus on work all day? Am I going to be half asleep tomorrow? Will I even be able to get through the 9000 slides waiting to rip me apart?" *dormmates get into bed, fall asleep within 5 minutes, start snoring a bit 😂* "I really shouldn't have slacked off last week. I always do this to myself. It's my fault, and I hate this" *starts feeling my heart pounding against my chest in panic* 😑 *meditates, but waits impatiently for the video to end, thinks about those ligaments again, realizes I forgot them, freaks out, self-talks and calms down* It's past midnight by then. "Okay maybe this will work. Maybe my misery would be over. Should I get up and study? Or find some melatonin tomorrow if I can? Should I cry to a pharmacist and gain some sympathy?😭" (Thank you, med school, for givjng me stress and insomnia while also managing to teach me about how bad they are for health 😂)

I prayed for the rainy season to be over the last time it was around. And I enjoyed the hell out of the sun but I think she was an everyday thing for me and I took her for granted. I'm really sorry and please, bring back the sunny days 🥲 Good morning, by the way. Have an awesome (preferably bright) day. 😊

So it hit me like a brick a month or two ago. What if its my responsibility to make myself happy? It's pretty obvious and its on instagram quotes everywhere, I know. And ps I dont really expect anyone specifically to make me feel happy or fullfilled, but I realised I was sitting around waiting for life to give me everything I wanted, as I sit and sulk about the things I never got. I know it'll never be perfect, and I do think luck or chance are actual factors in the whole thing but what if I did my part well? It actually scares me a little to think about it. What if I worked harder than ever in school and explored my hobbies and defended myself and surrounded myself only with people that bring me joy? What if I didnt have to beat myself down everytime something bad happens? What if I did everything I could to move on from the losses and focus on the people I have with me now? What if I allowed myself to grow mentally? Maybe if I did all or any of these I'd be a better human being. Or atleast more than a small fraction of the person I used to be. And to be honest, I'll never really know. But I can pull myself together and do everything I know I'm supposed to be doing and see if it works out in the future. Right? What if I'm the missing puzzle piece I've been looking for?

Hi 😊 so I'm back. Sorta. I felt like this place was dead but there's still an audience and there's still an Eden and maybe that's all it takes to start writing again. Maybe with a different vibe in the content and a more erratic schedule but, I think it'll work. 🥂 (Thank you for staying, I don't know why you did but still 💛)

something to say...😂

His name is Duol Gatluak Chol, He is PC2 student, 2011 intake in St. Paul's Millennium Medical College. His where about has been unknown since 25/08/2014 after 2 oclock local time around Ayahulet. He was last seen wearing a black Jean's jacket. Please contact Gatluak 0937149563 with any information you think will be helpful and help find our fellow student as his family and friends are concerned and would appreciate the information.

They say life is all about the choices you make. It’s about the sacrifices you hold dear, the luxuries you forgo, the pain you endure and the lessons you learn. 5 years ago, when she stepped into this school, her eyes first spotted the notice board to search for information about the registration process. She’s sure nobody noticed but if they had, they would have seen the pride in her eyes that she had felt. She still considers it as one of her biggest achievements, to have studied at SPHMMC no matter how much she had disliked it some times. It’s a recurrent, rather redundant theme in whatever she writes. It’s like they say, your heart always goes back to the places you love. 2 and a half years of basic science what could have been teenage angst and days of personal development lost to ደረቅ ሽምደዳ. Does she regret it? No. Does she still want to go back in time and maybe, live a little? Yes. Clinical year helps her to witness what she likes to call, the magic of medicine. She may have written a lot about this, she may have told you a lot of times but she doesn’t want to stop. She had seen people pass away with fewer odds against them. She had seen a man at the verge of death walk away on his own two feet just after a few injections. She wishes life were white and black, where you could label things as they were, not in hues of grey where you lose sight of the color you were looking for, in the first place. For every passion you chose, you lost sight of another passion. The one that you love with the same fervour and same innocence as the first. For her, it meant the love for writing that she wishes to fill inside of her but in vain. She thinks back of all the open mics she has missed because she has to study or was too tired to go to after a long day at school. She thinks of all the times she has written in the past year feeling like she was wasting time but loving it anyway. An extreme case of cognitive dissonance where studying makes her want to write poetry and all the while worried if she is wasting time and should get back to studying. Or where she loves going to school but also loves staying back home listening to her brother’s silly jokes, her mother’s kindness that makes her feel like the luckiest girl on the planet. She is sometimes a giddy little girl, in love with too many things at the same time. Or when she would love to self quarantine herself and read all the books she’s been meaning to read and all the words she’s been wishing to write, yet she also wants to be here,at school. Smarter people would say life is all about ‘balance’. But life is also short, and time is just too little and one lifetime some times isn’t enough. If she is making any sense, she doesn’t understand or if there are any more unfortunate impatient souls like her, she doesn’t know but the fact that this piece has seen the light of day means that she has successfully stolen a few moments of respite, to breathe into an empty space for a victory lap, a cry of celebration that she is here and she is alive and she will make it amidst this labrinth of ideas and responsibilities that will always keep millions like her from acknowledging life as it comes and from finding the best in the little things. Take it while knowing that not many could afford the chance, that they died without realising what had hit them, unplanned and unfinished with all the things that they ‘wanted’ to do. Take it, celebrate life and realise that never in the history of our lives was ever doing so little, enough to accomplish so much. Haymanot Girma @HakimEthio