1/22/25

New York is weird. One minute, you’re eating breakfast with a friend, and everything feels chill and normal. The next, you’re in a Sufism seminar trying to figure out if detachment is, like, the ultimate life hack or just a fancy way of saying ‘don’t text them back.’ Honestly, I’m still not sure.

After class, I went to my writing on films course, where we talked about how movies tell stories visually. It made me realize my day could probably be a pretty boring indie film—‘Girl Walks Through the City, Drinks Chai, Is Much Too Jet Lagged.’

By dinner, though, things got more fun. My friends and I were sitting by a window eating dinner, like always, and right across the way was the Islamic Center. One of them was hardcore people-watching. She kept pointing out guys praying like we were on some kind of live version of ‘Hot or Not.’ And okay, she wasn’t wrong—some of them were actually good-looking. Is the best view in the city the prayer-room window? My friend definitely agrees.

Now I’m back in my dorm, thinking about how random the day was. Breakfast talks, Sufi philosophy, indie film energy, and strangers in windows—it’s like every little thing somehow fits together, even if it makes zero sense.