Azura's' Home Planet

My goal as a writer since high school was to write about the systems, powers and even the people that affect the day-to-day life of the average person. Stories I’ve thought about writing and attempted to write centered around this motive of mine. Exploring the psychological aspect of what it means to be human and the reaction to the forces around an individual as well as communities has taken hold of me since I watched Hirokazu Koreeda’s “Shoplifters”, a slow paced movie that explores a family not bound by blood, but choice to each other. I was 16 when I first watched it. I have been forever changed. A movie so perfectly reflected the inner workings of what I had been feeling during that time, my desire for family and love, and to see how outside forces either make or break the bonds formed. So many attempts have been made to write my fantasy, science fiction and melodramatic stories, but having ADHD can be the most frustrating thing in the world. It can be a bitch. Being neurodivergent in a world with systems set up for the neurotypicals, among other privileged identities, to succeed has led me to a phase of existence where I am just angry at almost everything. Seeing as though anger is a secondary emotion, it is being used as a cover since this unknown feeling I possess does not have a name at the moment. This emotion stems from the reality that I am in a major at my university (Anthropology) that is so immensely needed now more than ever when race divides us all due to evil political forces, and yet it is so undervalued and underfunded. The career trajectory of young people graduating are close to bleak leaving me to feel so overwhelmed with the idea of obtaining financial security when we’ve been told our whole lives college was the answer for that. With financial burdens of this modern world alongside a civil society where the shift is moving towards a hateful attitude instead of a loving one, the effects of late stage capitalism being felt more than ever by those of us not in the upper classes and the birth of a communal mindset as result, I feel compelled more than ever to write. Not just fiction, but realistic reporting of my own life and eventually others as I grow as a writer and, hopefully, someday a reporter of sorts. A public “diary” of sorts since in a private one all thoughts are raw and can be unrefined. I will go through the process of refinement since 1) it is public and I will discuss political topics I am passionate about and 2) I want my thoughts to be as cohesive as possible so that dialogue can be had. Being wrong is a fear I must work through everyday. Being right and impassioned about what I believe in are more acts I must get used to doing. If I am going to be a writer, no matter how I get there, this is a part of the journey I must brave: vulnerability, authenticity, honesty. Sometimes I cannot help but wonder what my life would’ve been like had I been born at a different time. I look to the authors of the past where their works were valued, where scholars of the humanities and social sciences were actually appreciated and listened to, and a part of me wants to cry out to the Universe. But then I remember, even during their times they had their own trials and tribulations. If they can overcome theirs, I too must overcome mine.