I find myself lying awake in my room on this painfully boring and slow Wednesday night. My mind & body both urge me to succumb to the blissful whispers of sleep, but alas I refuse their seduction. I suddenly had an intense desire to document my latest thoughts. Most importantly, I've been taking the time to muse over the chronicles that have become my life. In my own words I've come to realize that my life seems to be something out of a novel. Whether it be the birds of the season carrying a deeper meaning, the comedic relief amongst tragedies, to a higher power playing a deliberate hand in my storyline... It's bewildering to say the least. A life that stemmed from less than humble beginnings has now finally been enlightened to its truest potential. Here I am, a college student studying in the best Advertising program in the country, in one of the world's most famous cities. The same girl whose maternal grandmother used tire shredding & barbed wire as shoes throughout her childhood. The same girl whose father left school to help feed his siblings. The same girl whose mother was not afforded more than a middle school education. The same girl who lived in nine different homes in a mere 18 years. The same girl whose parents left their families and everything they knew behind all for the sake that the same girl could pursue what they were never given the option to pursue: educational merit. And although the pursuit for knowledge is what fuels this narrative it does not begin to encompass the true miracles that have explicitly occurred throughout my life. Yes, they were miracles because to call them anything less would be a grave injustice & to not give acknowledgement to their existence would be to rob others of enlightenment.